Way to Fall
by Sheep the Adventurer
Summary: Without a voice to call for help, who will come? Sarah realises that there is a lot more beneath the surface than she ever thought, and truly learns that things are never as they seem.
1. Chapter 1

**Way to Fall**

Chapter 1 

She returned a victor, but that wasn't the end. It wasn't the end of her story, or the end of the strange happenings that would continue to occur.

After her return, she began to see things. Things she shouldn't see. At first she didn't notice, weaving her way serenely through life, never quite looking hard enough to see what existed beneath the surface.

But one day, she did see, and everything changed.

It was a bright day in the park, a languid day. The green leaves of the trees glowed and cast dappled green gold patterns on the ground. People lay stretched across the grass, half asleep. The shrill sound of shrieks filled the air as children ran around chasing birds and each other. The perfect summer day. She sat, curled up on a bench, her dog sleeping at her feet. She watched the people walk by sleepily, basking in the peace of normality.

Then she saw the woman.

She was an ordinary woman, not too tall, not too short. She was talking on her phone, chatting amicably and occasionally tucking her short hair behind her ear. She wore ordinary clothes and was _normal_.

But the shadow that never strayed from a pace behind her wasn't. It wavered under the summer sun, an oily shadow, iridescent yet deeply disturbing. She sat up, staring as the two passed by.

Without conscious thought, the girl stood up and followed, memorised by the strange shadow at the woman's heels. The woman never noticed her followers, completely absorbed in her conversation.

They exited the park and as they came to the road. The woman barely glanced up before stepping out. She never saw the car.

The woman was flung away to under a willow tree where she landed with a sickening thud. The car screeched to a halt and the driver got out, talking hysterically. People appeared from nowhere, drawn by an invisible force.

The girl never noticed, she stood stock still, staring at the woman. The shadow knelt by the body. It swept away some of her hair and kissed her forehead in a strangely affectionate gesture, spindly fingers sweeping down her face in a twisted caress. While people crowded round the body and cried for a doctor, the darkness stood and turned to Sarah. It looked straight at her with sightless eyes, in a silent acknowledgement.

She began to scream.

_She thought she would never stop_.

She woke up in a hospital, a blurry sea of faces bent anxiously over her.

"…Sarah…?" the voices seemed distant. She sat up slowly, with help. She wasn't in pain, she wasn't physically injured, but there was something that hadn't been there before. Feeling strangely heavy, she looked around. She felt like she was suspended in water, and everything seemed so far away. The talk of the people around her was muffled. Her memories shifted, swirling into place.

_The woman didn't see the car. Her body was flung out, flying in slow motion like a rag doll. She landed with a crunch. It seemed to echo. Sarah would never forget that sound. Then, that creature…that thing…_

She gasped and hunched her shoulders; there was a cold feeling down her spine. It made her shudder. Trying to order her chaotic thoughts, she felt different. She felt…mortally afraid.

A soothing hand was placed on her hair as she rubbed her forehead, a glass of water was offered. Sarah clumsily took it, and drank, staring at the white blanket. The bed was not comfortable, but she didn't notice.

Karen smiled worriedly "Sarah, dear, how do you feel?" she said kindly. Robert Williams, acknowledging the look his wife gave him, ushered Toby out of the room.

Sarah tried to respond, but nothing came out. She was silent, she couldn't speak. A dawning horror came upon her, and she automatically tried to scream.

Silence.

Tears fell down her face and Karen patted her hand tensely, uttering soothing nothings all the while.

"Sarah! Sarah dear? What's the matter? Its okay, darling…its okay…"

She cradled her stepdaughter for the first time, and Sarah cried as if her heart would break.

The doctors came, and found nothing wrong. It was in Sarah's mind, they said. The trauma of seeing the accident had sent her into shock. She could recover soon, she could recover later. Job done. They told her to go home.

She kept her eyes closed leaving the hospital, _because if you can't see them, they can't see you._

Karen patted her arm, and tried to conceal the growing concern that she felt.

They went home and Sarah was still afraid. Her voice still wouldn't return.

She tried to return to daily life, and tried to fit in without her voice. But she saw more of the strange things.

She saw the pale little girl that watched when small children strayed that bit too far from their mothers. She saw how she moved closer and stretched out her long long fingers until beaten back when the mother caught sight of their child.

She saw the nightmares that sat by bedsides and whispered into the ear of the sleeper. The women with cheery smiles and animal feet who sang by the rivers and never meant any harm, she saw.

She saw a lot of sights, good or bad. Some made her smile, and people wondered why she smiled so at nothing. Some made her afraid, and people wondered what made her run away.

As she couldn't speak, no one ever knew. She wondered if she was crazy, but she knew, these _things_ were there – but something had changed her and she saw differently to others.

She was different.

* * *

Toby scrambled over to her and poked the sleeping Sarah in her side. "Sarah!" he called insistently. She scrunched up her face comically and peeked open one eye. Toby laughed and poked her again. "Come on, get up!"

He jumped off the bed, and Sarah threw an arm over her eyes with a theatrical groan. There was the dry rattle of the curtains being opened hurriedly, accompanied by sudden glare of sunlight. Sighing aggrievedly, she removed her arm, and squinted at her brother for a moment. "Get up!" he whined, dragging out the syllables.

She nodded wearily with a smile, and swung her feet out of bed. Toby stood to one side, hopping on one leg impatiently. "Come on!" he repeated impatiently. Sarah gave him a dry look as she perched on the side of the bed and he grinned sheepishly "Ok, you can have some time to get ready." He admitted magnanimously.

He turned to go but Sarah patted him on the shoulder and handed him a card with a broad smile. She yawned, and watched for his reaction.

Toby smiled and ripped it open "What? No money?" he asked in mock dismay, shaking the card lightly. Sarah gave him a light punch and he read the card, smiling.

She mouthed 'Happy Birthday' and Toby looked at her cheerfully. "Present later, huh? Ah well. Anyway, get ready quickly!" He ran to the doorway and out. Then his head appeared back round the frame a second later.

"Oh, and Mum says that breakfast is ready and don't spend hours getting up." He prompted, and then abruptly dashed off again.

After getting ready as fast as she could – as per instructed, Sarah sat at the breakfast table, eating quietly. Toby and her father were sitting down also, the former unable to keep still and the latter reading the paper with a half smile at his son's antics.

She finished her breakfast and Karen whisked the bowl away as soon as she'd taken the last mouthful. Sarah still held the spoon slightly helplessly. She started trying to balance it on her finger.

"Toby, where do you want to go then?" Karen asked brightly, tipping the last few sodden remains of Sarah's cereal into the bin. She began to wash it in the sink almost immediately afterwards.

Toby took a deep breath "Well…" he started as a prelude to what surely would be a lengthy list. Sarah sighed inwardly, knowing there were at least six theme parks in the lengthy list.

"Remember, you're doing something with your friends tomorrow, today is for family." Interrupted Karen hastily, evidently thinking the same thing. Besides, it was hard to imagine Karen in any sort of theme park.

Toby reflected on this fact momentarily. "The Fair!" he cried suddenly, with a large and vaguely frightening grin. Sarah fumbled and dropped the spoon. Karen eyed it and snatched it up before Sarah could reclaim it.

While cleaning the spoon, Karen cast an anxious eye at her husband "Will it be safe at a Fair? I don't know, Robert…"

Toby had his most convincing pleading eyes working at maximum capacity, and they were turned full tilt on his father. The answer was a foregone conclusion.

"It'll be fine, dear, as long as we're careful. It's a nice day today, lots of families will be there. It should be fun." Robert Williams said amicably, folding his paper with aplomb.

Sarah smiled distractedly as Toby whooped and cheered. She wondered.

They set off half an hour later and joined the crowd of people moving into the fair. It was held every year at the same field on the edge of town. It was an old fashioned Halloween Fair, with people in costume, merry-go-rides with the scent of oranges and gingerbread in the air. Sarah held her brother's hand and smiled at him as he stared at all the busy cacophony around him.

They moved up to the ticket kiosk and Robert Williams paid the comfortably fat woman, who gave them a warm smile "Ah, it's always nice to see a family day out." She commented, her chins wobbling emotionally while she handed them their tickets. Robert made some polite comment, and they moved off, into the Fair.

Toby saw a stall that caught his eye "Can I go over to that? Sarah can look after me!" he asked Karen, holding up Sarah's hand. Karen nodded with a perfunctory 'Be careful', and Sarah gave them a long suffering look as she was dragged away. They were quickly swallowed by the crowd.

Sarah kept her eyes concentrating on Toby, she dared not look up. If she had, she would have seen the beings of unearthly beauty that wandered through the crowds, or the red haired old man in white who stood by those who gambled. Even if she did not watch them, they watched her.

Toby reached the ride and Sarah looked up to see a horrific ride which seemed to go upside down, up and down, round and do it _quickly_. Sarah turned her wide eyes onto her brother to show exactly what she thought.

Toby sighed exaggeratedly "I'll go on by myself then!" he said proudly. Her brow creasing in worry, Sarah put her hand on his shoulder and he instantly looked sunny again.

"Come on!" he tugged at her hand again and they paid for the two tickets.

They were just about to get on the ride when there was a sudden uproar. Sarah tried to not to be thankful. They paused and turned towards the direction of the furore, trying to see what the commotion was about. Screams echoed around the field, and people ran towards them. The Fair was in chaos. Sarah grabbed for Toby's hand again, her eyes automatically scanning around the surroundings.

There was a loud series of bangs and thuds, and the sound of male voices shouting coming closer.

Sarah pulled Toby away at a stumbling run, he was gazing open mouthed at something behind her. She whipped her head round, to see two things simultaneously.

First, she saw a huge black horse rearing and screaming at the men who were trying to stop it. It was heading towards them, galloping while its mouth foamed with mindless fury. A dark cloud hung about its head, there was some_thing_ wrong in it.

Then, in the next split second, she saw, Toby was being followed by a small black shadow. It jogged with him, leaping jerkily with him across the ground. Oily and iridescent, it inspired fear in her she had never felt before.

The beast was nearing them.

Time slowed as she flung herself in front of Toby, pushing him out of danger.

She landed with a jolt on the grassy floor and as the huge hooves thudded nearer and nearer, and as Toby cried out, and as she saw her own shadow reach out a misty hand, she suddenly whispered soundlessly without quite knowing why "Jareth…"

_And the world stopped dead._

* * *

I don't quite know where this came from, it's probably the most serious one I've started! Review please, I want to know opinions on this.

Notice: I'm sort of editing this at the moment, no drastic story changes, I'm just making it a little longer and (hopefully) better.


	2. Chapter 2

Way to Fall

Chapter 2

"Open your eyes." It was the first sound, in a second that lasted forever in that silent world.

She opened her eyes to see a hand held out in offering, a slim palm encased in gloves. She lay on the floor a moment longer, her thoughts slowly returning. Afraid of what she would see, she looked at nothing but the hand. She slid her own hand onto it, and a firm grip pulled her to her feet, she stumbled and righted herself.

Sarah stared at the floor still, her hair shielding her face. Then she looked up.

He was there, unchanging and beautiful, still arrogant. He wore all black, and his pale hair fell over his pale forehead, while he smiled with faint amusement. There was still that deep otherworldliness in his eyes that had always unsettled her.

She looked away.

Her mind began to work again, and the first thought that came to her mind was her brother. She gasped and swung around, to see Toby frozen in the middle of getting up, his horror-struck eyes gazing sightlessly at the place where she had fallen. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Sarah turned to look at the rest of the world, studiously not looking at _him_. The horse stood still, frozen in the act of rearing. The massive hooves were dark against the blue sky in which birds were hung motionlessly.

She finally turned to him to see he was candidly watching her, his eyes narrowed. "Oh dear, Sarah," he said quietly "Seeing what mortal eyes shouldn't see." Her hand went self consciously to her throat and she watched him defensively. Flexing his hand,he gave her a brief distracted smile before he turned away to look at the horse. He held out his hand, his palm held forwards. He clenched his fingers, and _pulled._

The black cloud around the horse's eyes swirled and solidified as it fell to the ground. It eventually became a spindly bony creature with yellow eyes that darted to and fro, never still. A thin thread that pulsed like a heartbeat connected it to the horse. Its shifting gaze rested on Sarah for a split second. She shuddered and stepped back inadvertently.

It finally settled its gaze on the floor, its long limbs still twitching. It spoke in a rasping voice like a death rattle "Goblin King." It acknowledged, its head held at an angle.

Jareth watched it evenly "Hello." He said pleasantly, his eyes cold. "Causing havoc are we?"

The creature jerked more violently "You have never interfered in our affairs before, great King." Again its malevolent eyes flicked to Sarah.

Jareth tilted his head "Hm?" Cruel and amused. Capricious all at once.

The flickering eyes of the creature saw he had made a mistake "This unworthy one begs your mercy, gracious one. Mercy, great King!" it cried.

Jareth's eyes narrowed and he concentrated. "I never could stand pointless flattery." He muttered.

The creature hissed and snapped its head up. It swung its gaze to Sarah and sprang with quicksilver speed. Sarah screamed noiselessly and stumbled back, only half hearing Jareth's shout. Expecting to be clawed, she looked up after a second.

The creature was suspended in mid air in the midst of transparent crystal. Jareth smirked "I should have known." He walked forward leisurely to it. It watched him viciously and struggled uselessly against invisible bonds. He leant forward "That was a very stupid thing to do. I always have my reasons…" He whispered coldly, half to himself it seemed.

He stepped back, casual once more. Sarah watched, confused, having not heard anything.

Jareth flicked his wrist as he threw a crystal and the creature started to emit a high keening sound as it grew more and more insubstantial. The sound stopped, and the remnants blew away on a far off wind that came from nowhere.

Sarah hardly felt the silence after, still hearing the terrible keening sound. She absently looked down, to see blood oozing out of a cut on her arm. She frowned and lifted it to look at it. She suddenly felt _his _presence close to her. She looked up, but he was staring at the cut on her arm with a strange intensity in his gaze.

He lifted his eyes and met hers, he held out his hand "Let me see." He asked softly, gently.

She held it out mutely, her cheeks flooded with a blush. He grasped her wrist loosely and touched the shallow scratch with his finger. The blood was crimson bright against the dull brown. His touch followed the line of the scrape, and it healed.

He stepped back, satisfied. Sarah stood where she was, shocked. She smiled and nodded in thanks, tearing her gaze from him. Jareth studied her for a second "Interesting. Brave Sarah, a mute." He commented lightly. She kept her face averted.

He was about to step forward but apparently thought better of it "No, I think it serves my present interests better to leave you as you are."

Sarah glared and fought the bittersweet hope that had surged within her, supposing she should be grateful that he had saved her life. He gave a natural smile for the first time in their meeting "Don't look me like that. I will…return, soon. But for now, I say goodbye."

He bowed his head and there was an almost wistful expression in his guarded eyes as he bid her farewell. Without warning, he shoved her shoulder firmly and she fell to the ground where she had been.

With a snap of his fingers, he restored time and left the scene. He stood before his Labyrinth with a bitter smile.

_I move the stars for no one…_

…_Why her…?_

* * *

Sarah gasped as time flooded back and the noise hit her like a tidal wave. Her mind was still swirling with the timeless conversation with the Goblin King. He had helped her – but he gave her no answers. She winced and moved experimentally, that fall had _hurt_.

The horse thudded to a halt and stood trembling with exhaustion, its head bowed. Men scurried over and caught its trailing halter. By the time Toby reached her, she was eerily calm and wondering if her she had actually seen the Goblin King.

"Sarah?" Toby demanded anxiously "Are you okay? Where are mom and dad! I can't believe it, are you okay?"

Sarah smiled reassuringly and placed her hand over her brothers mouth while she got up. A crowd of people had hurried over, a woman was trying to obtain answers from Sarah and getting increasingly harried.

Toby took his sisters hand protectively "She can't speak." He said defensively. A slim, almost translucent, female stood by Sarah, stroking her hair absently while murmuring soothing nothings in a language like a soft breeze. Sarah stared at the floor.

A man spoke "That was very brave of you, young lady." He said "What's her name?"

The female beside Sarah patted her shoulder and pointed a thin finger at the journalist tag around the mans neck. Sarah shook her head at the man and began to walk away with Toby in tow. He understood and kept quiet. Sarah subtly smiled at the spirit, the female smiled mistily and moved away.

Weaving her way through the confused crowds, they soon lost their following.

"Toby! Sarah! Where are you!" Toby heard the frantic calls of his parents and tugged Sarah in their direction.

Karen's face relaxed immediately when she caught sight of them "Are you alright?" she demanded, fussing over Toby as soon as she came within her reach and looking at Sarah.

Sarah nodded absently, however Toby was babbling out the whole story. She rolled her eyes wearily.

Suddenly she was squashed in a hug from Karen "Oh you brave girl!" gasped Karen. Sarah was too busy trying to keep breathing to reply.

Robert patted Karen on the shoulder gingerly "I think that's enough, love." He said diplomatically. Karen nodded and went back to fussing over Toby.

Robert chuckled humourlessly "I think the fair is over for the day now. I think I might just settle for quiet meal out tonight, hm?" he smiled at Sarah awkwardly and moved over to Toby.

_Because old memories linger._

* * *

Please review :)


	3. Chapter 3

Way to Fall

Chapter 3

It was a dull day and the sky was leaden with clouds. Sarah had spent a sleepless night after the events of the fair, and the morning was hardly inspiring. A chill wind blew, rattling through the bare trees. Sarah shivered and pulled her coat tighter. Leaves slithered across the path and swirled around her feet as she passed. The park was deserted, but she didn't mind. She wasn't there for people.

Sarah sighed heavily; she often came to the park to think. It was, after all, the starting place for so many things that had affected her life.

She glanced to her left, and saw the bench where she had first seen _it_. For a moment, she saw a glimpse of the hopeful dark haired girl who no longer had anything to fear, and so much to hope for. In that split second, she saw how she could have been, a normal young woman ready to take on the world. The moment passed, and she looked away. Her destiny had been sealed when she had said the words.

Sarah smiled bitterly and hunched her shoulders. She continued walking, keeping her eyes on the ground. Sometimes it was nice to pretend.

Passing over the bridge, she paused a second to look into the dark water. Tiny eddies dipped and swirled, as the swollen stream raced on.

Lost in her own thoughts, she almost didn't hear the cries of distress. The sounds finally registered in her brain, and her head snapped up.

A few metres away, a figure lay on one of the benches, turning fitfully. However, what Sarah was staring at was the nightmare that knelt by the person. Sarah gasped, and hurried forward. She came up to the bench, and saw the nightmare whispering, whispering into the persons ears with a blissful smile.

For a minute, she stood frozen. The nightmare had one thin hand resting lightly on the girl's shoulder. It had few defining features, something was there where a face should be, a shifting swirl of many features of different faces. Some were human, some were not, but all were terrible. The thing's changing eyes were closed as it murmured with wide red mouth ever present and smiling.

Sarah shuddered, and the movement returned her to her senses. She started forward, avoiding any contact with the nightmare. She shook the person roughly, a sleeping girl. She wished she could call out the only thing that would repel a nightmare 'Wake up, wake up!'

The nightmare trembled minutely, as the girl stirred. She muttered something. The nightmare's eyes opened, they were pure shining black, undiluted darkness. Sarah stared, her hands relaxing their grip. She couldn't look away, mesmerised.

She was drawn closer, an image flicked in the darkness. Sarah frowned absently, swaying as her head tilted to get a better look. She could see…She could see…A_ girl…A man…A garden…And a deal struck in blood_…

Sarah jumped in shock as a hand suddenly clamped on her wrist. The nightmare began to melt away; it bared its needle thin teeth at her, hissing thinly. Her own nightmares rarely woke her anymore, the sleeping pills saw to that.

Sarah tore her eyes away from the fading dream. She saw the sleeper properly for the first time, the girl was finally awake. Her strangely unfocused blue eyes wandered, but the grip on Sarah's wrist was sure. "You can see them? You saw it!" the girl's voice was urgent, almost desperate.

Alarmed, Sarah tried to tug back her wrist. She had enough oddity in her life, and wished to be left alone. "You see the things!" the girl cried, and Sarah stopped struggling. She looked intently at the girl, wondering what she meant.

"You…will stay? Hear me out?" The girl's voice quavered uncertainly.

Sarah patted the girl's hand reassuringly, sitting down on the bench as the girl swung her legs off to accommodate her. While not entirely sure what the girl's intentions were, she decided to humour her.

"My name is…Wendy." She smiled, her eyes staring ahead "Sorry, if I don't look at you, I…" she shifted. "I can't. I'm blind." She finished. Sarah grimaced, and wondered how exactly they were going to communicate. A dog walker trotted past, leading an old, rather fat terrier behind him. He nodded politely, and moved on. Wendy seemed to somehow sense his presence, and was quiet. After he left, she began to talk once more.

"You are there, aren't you? I'm not just talking to myself." Wendy laughed nervously, she put a hand to her forehead – it was trembling. Sarah supposed it was the after effects of the nightmare. From what she had seen, it hadn't been pleasant.

Sarah pressed the girl's hand, and Wendy grinned.

"Thank you. And thank you, for waking me. I didn't want to sleep through that again." Wendy laughed weakly, awkwardly.

"Are you…are you Sarah?" The girl asked suddenly. Sarah stiffened, staring at the girl. Suddenly, this became something she couldn't ignore. Wendy seemed to sense the tension, and spoke hurriedly "They speak of her; I just wondered if - you were- I'm sorry." It was an uncomfortable notion, it appeared Sarah was not as invisible as she thought she was.

Sarah relaxed slightly and tapped once on Wendy's hand "You are her?" Sarah tapped again. "You are her." Wendy spoke, a trace of something in her voice. Awe? Regret? Sarah couldn't tell.

Wendy was silent for a moment "I started seeing them when I was four." She began quietly "There was an accident, I almost died, but…somehow, I survived. Then, after that, I could see _them_."

Sarah shivered, just a child?She shook her head, a child shouldn't have to feel that kind of fear. Curious, and feeling pity, she looked at Wendy once more.

Wendy twisted her hands in her lap. "Although some are kind, there are some…some that find it simple to be cruel. I was so afraid, I tried to tell my family. They thought I was crazy, I had to take pills, but that just made it worse. Then one day, finally…"

She trailed off, and touched her eyelids gently with her fingers. Sarah understood, the girl had made herself blind. She had taken her own sight to escape. There were faint scars.

Wendy shrugged, a delicate sigh fluttering from her lips. "I was twelve then." She spoke, almost absently.

There was a distracted smile on her face. "It feels nice, being able to talk to someone who doesn't think I'm insane. Anyway, as I was saying, not being able to see them didn't make them go away. They know you're there, that you can sense them. It's almost worse, in a way, that I can't see them."

Sarah clasped Wendy's hand, watching her with strong sympathy. Wendy gripped her hand back "Thank you." She repeated. They sat in silence for a moment.

"…Sarah?" Wendy's voice was soft. "The things…they say…" she paused. "I think I should tell you this…"

Sarah squeezed her hand, silently urging her to continue. She needed to know what was happening. She hadn't spoken to the creatures in some time. If she was honest with herself, she still lived with a vague hope that if she ignored them, they would go away. However, any news that involved her she needed to know. Plus it seemed that Wendy needed to talk to someone.

"Sarah, please be careful, don't trust those who seem trustworthy. Don't…just stay away from the Goblin King. He means you harm, stay away. They whisper…of the revenge he will take." Wendy whispered fearfully.

Sarah felt a cold shudder pass through her spine. The Goblin King? _She remembered, his intense look at her bleeding arm, the look in his eyes as he pushed her down…_She shook her head fiercely, feeling faint.

"Don't trust him. He isn't what you think." Sarah looked at her helplessly, completely confused.

Wendy grasped around for Sarah's other hand. "I'm sorry Sarah, thing aren't always what they seem." There was a clear message behind her words. Sarah just wished the girl would explain further, she cursed her own lack of speech.

Sarah let go of the girl's hands, heaving a deep shuddering sigh. She stood with her, turning so her back was to the girl.

"You are leaving? That's okay, please do come here again, it would be nice to speak to you again." Wendy was quiet, wistful, and almost apologetic.

Sarah patted her girl's shoulder and walked away quickly. Her quick steps betrayed her turmoil. Wendy's words had spelt a clear message. Danger. The quiet little world she had until now occupied, she sensed, was a time that was quickly drawing to an end.

The girl called Wendy listened as the footsteps grew fainter. A tear slipped down her cheek, then another, until she was openly crying. She rocked back and forth, her breathing hitched with sobs.

She froze, as she felt a hand on her back. Her shoulders tensed, she could feel the cold through her jacket. It could only be him.

"Hush, it is only I." The voice was light, teasing.

She jerked away from his touch. He laughed and moved from behind the bench to sit in the space Sarah had vacated.

The girl called Wendy had her face turned from him. His long fingers turned her face towards him; he traced the path of her tears. He withdrew his hand, and licked the tips of his fingers. "I always loved the taste of your tears, little girl."

"I hate you." The girl called Wendy whispered with venom.

He chuckled "I know, my girl, I do. But remember," his tone changed to soft, insinuating "You were the one who wanted the deal."

The girl called Wendy shook her head. "I was only a child, you tricked me."

"I only did what you wanted, you asked that you would not be able to see them, and you cannot. You should have heard the tales. Human knowledge is forgotten so easily. You were young indeed, young and foolish."

She closed her sightless eyes, and remembered.

_A darkened garden, a desperate young girl, and an offer too good to be true. A saviour too beautiful to ever be real. She should have known. 'You'll never see them again, all I want is a drop of your blood, little girl.'_

A small scar marked her left palm, where he had collected his due. She'd not known it would mean so much. _'Mommy, my hand is bleeding.'_

"Besides, why are you so melancholy? You did do as I asked." He continued seriously "If I am in a good mood– you might even regain what you lost."

He touched her forehead, smoothing away an errant lock of hair. She shied away. He moved his hand away and instead picked up her left hand. He traced the scar with a fingertip thoughtfully. His hands were icy cold; there was no warm blood beneath his skin.

The silence suggested a certain lapse of attention on his part. "You humans never cease to intrigue us. He was so intrigued, he almost left us." He said, almost wonderingly.

The stranger seemed to suddenly remember her presence. "So she saved you from your memories. How kind to save a complete stranger. How cruel, that you would betray such a brave, good girl." His voice was admonishing, cutting.

The girl called Wendy bowed her head "It's not me. _It's not me._" She muttered brokenly, tears falling from her eyes.

He moved to embrace her, holding the crying girl against his chest. "It _is _you. You _betrayed _her But at least you will get what _you_ want, hm? What a pity, she was such a lovely girl." He whispered into her hair "Cruel, like her."

* * *

Please review! Feel free to be constructive. I think I can take it. As long as I have enough tissues. Ask questions if you want, whatever. 

Now if you are wondering what the hell is going on, join the club, you get free stickers. If you want to find out more about the stories that Mysterious Guy alludes to, one story is 'The Fairy Ointment'...


	4. Chapter 4

**Way** to **Fall**

Chapter 4

Sarah fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking as she unlocked the door. She dashed in and slammed the door, panting as she leant against it. She put a hand to her face distractedly. She couldn't think straight, her mind was in turmoil.

She didn't know what to think about the Goblin King. He had saved her, but for what reason? She shuddered, remembering the strange warning.

"Sarah?" A sleepy voice jerked her from her reverie. Sarah looked up to see her brother standing at the entrance to the living room. His blond hair was tousled and it appeared he had been taking a nap in front of the television. "Mum and Dad are still out."

She smiled softly, moving away from the door. Toby frowned "Are you okay?" She walked over and hugged him. "What? Hey!" Toby protested and squirmed. She ruffled his hair and let go.

"What's up with you?" Toby demanded, reasserting his dignity. Sarah shrugged breezily and cast off her coat, slipping out of her shoes. She walked up the stairs.

Toby muttered something undoubtedly about crazy older sisters and disappeared into the living room once more.

Sarah's smile slipped as soon as she turned away. She absently navigated the route to her bedroom and went in. Sitting on her bed, she absently held a cushion to her chest and stared at her Escher print of the room of stairs. The twisting complexity.

Faintly she could hear the sounds of the television in the living room and wind as it grew in force. Frowning she looked out of the window, the grey sky was rapidly darkening. Leaves fluttered past her window as the wind rattled the shutters. A bolt of fear constricted her heart for a moment.

Forcing herself to calm down, she breathed slowly until her heart rate slowed. With a choked half laugh, she ran a minutely trembling hand threw her hair. _'I'm a nervous wreck! Its nothing…Calm down…'_ She closed her eyes and lay back down on her bed.

She relaxed, her stiff muscles aching from her run home. Inadvertently, the words of the Goblin King returned. _'I will…return, soon._'

If the Wendy's warning were true…she really did not want to see him. But she could not escape if he wanted to find her, she suddenly felt very helpless. She wondered if she should even trust the words of someone she had just met. Though then again, it wasn't as if the Goblin King had a great record.

She sighed, and then froze. Something was wrong. She sat up sharply. She gazed forward, her mind working rapidly to try and focus on why she had the sudden indefinable feeling. It was the silence.

The noise of the television had cut off. But it wasn't just that, it was _every other noise_. The house seemed to be cloaked in a thick blanket of silence. Even the sound of the wind had died.

The light on her bedside cabinet sputtered and went out. Sarah's fingers clenched around the material of her duvet.

The room was in shadow, the clouds outside were still strangely dark. Sarah's heart thudded in her chest, as her eyes slowly re-adjusted.

She stood up, her panicked thoughts running riot. She walked forward slowly, frowning.

There was a heavy kind of atmosphere, a kind of warm suffocation. Quietly, as every movement seemed obscenely loud, she stepped over to the door.

Opening it, she walked over the landing, worrying for Toby. She was fervently hoping he had nothing to do with any of this.

She went down the stairs, and almost ran to the entrance of the living room where she stopped short. Sarah gasped.

The Goblin King stood there. His grey shirt sparkled in the half light, somehow reminiscent of frost and mist. The ever present pendant hung on his chest. On the sofa sat Toby, Sarah's horrified eyes traced his fixed stare to the crystal the Goblin King was twirling between his long fingers.

The Goblin King caught sight of her and smiled a slow, languid smile of cruel amusement. Toby didn't seem to notice her presence. He continued to idly spin the crystal.

"So, you joined us at last Sarah?" he asked politely. His eyes coldly appraised her dishevelled appearance, taking in her windblown hair, jeans and t-shirt. She held her ground, meeting his glance with a defiant gaze. He chuckled softly, his thin lips curling into a sneer. She glared at him.

"Surprised, Sarah? You seem to forget, I can be generous, but _I can be cruel_." He spoke lightly at first, but his voice changed to a tone almost threatening.

She shook her head violently, and started forward. She barely made more than a step before she was forcibly stopped. The Goblin King held both her wrists in an iron grip. She hadn't seen him move. She avoided his eyes, and twisted around him to see a small crystal spinning in front of Toby's mesmerised stare.

She struggled in futile for a few moments, and then stopped. She glared at him again.

She pleaded in her mind '_Please, not Toby…Anything but him…'_

"Now," Jareth spoke again when she stopped struggling "Sarah. I feel I should explain some things. You won the last round, but once you invited me back…"

_Shelandedwithajoltonthegrassyfloorandasthehugehoovesthuddednearerandnearer,andasTobycriedout,andasshesawherownshadowreachoutamistyhand,shesuddenly_

_whisperedwithoutquiteknowingwhy "Jareth…"_

He smiled delicately, revealing pointed teeth "Why, you started a new game. And in return for me heroically saving your life, well, your brother will be enough to pay the debt." He looked round, almost fondly. "He will make a fine heir."

Already she could see the Labyrinth materialising outside the window, she began to fruitlessly struggle again. The sun was rising in a magnificent blaze of colour over the maze.

Almost effortlessly, he pulled her against him, putting an end to her rebellion. He smoothed her hair back behind her ear, and tapped her nose, ignoring her look of hatred. He was watching her silently, thoughtfully.

He held out a hand, elegantly cased in grey gloves, intricately stitched with pearls. He snapped his fingers, and the crystal, with Toby in thrall, began to move towards the window. The window opened as Toby dreamily walked towards the Labyrinth, following the dancing crystal. Sarah watched in frozen horror, locked in the arms of King she hated.

She felt strangely weak, as if stuck in a nightmare chase, with leaden legs.

Toby continued to walk, stumbling at places, down to the doors of the maze. The Goblin King finally let her go, and she wrenched free of his grasp. She dashed towards the open windows, trying to force her voice to work, so she could shout, scream, _anything_.

Jareth held up a hand, and the windows slammed shut. Sarah halted in front of the windows, trying to undo the stubborn latch. But it would not open. Helplessly, she banged on the panes of glass with the fists, silent tears streaming down her face. She rested her forehead on the cold glass, feeling the alien warmth of sunlight from another world. She closed her eyes in bitter defeat, as Toby disappeared from her sight. Her breathing was hitched with raw sobs.

She felt, rather than saw, the hand on her shoulder. Instinctively, she tried to shrug it off, but it stayed, oddly warm.

"There, there, Sarah. I was always going to win in the end." His whisper was in her ear, and he was close, a presence she could feel.

She swung around suddenly, her eyes wild with anger. There was a brief expression of surprise in his eyes. She lunged forward, in her enraged state just wanting to _hurt_ him. She was stopped by his hand, as quickly as a snake strike, encircling her throat. He squeezed, infinitesimally, and black spots obscured her vision as she choked.

He leaned forward, his eyes dark. Sarah watched him, breathing in short pants, her eyes still bright with rage. Her arms hung by her sides, limp.

His gaze flicked over her face "I'm going to return your voice." He said softly. "Because I am generous. Because I want to hear you scream. I want to hear you brought low, because I don't take defeat easily Sarah, you understand? I am simply taking my revenge."

He released her throat and she collapsed to the ground, coughing. All she could see were his high boots, swirling in and out of her vision.

He kneeled in front of her gracefully. "Goodbye Sarah." He made to get up.

"I-I…"

He stopped, tilting his head in mild interest as to what she would say.

"I'll- I'll get him b-back." Her voice was croaky with disuse, but strong in conviction "I'll beat you again."

He laughed delightedly "Oh really? You will?" He stood up in one fluid movement. Sarah swayed, with static filling her vision and a chiming discordance in her ears.

The last thing she remembered before the darkness of unconsciousness swallowed her was the sight of white feathers falling, the sound of fading laughter and the last mocking challenge.

"_I look forward to it..."_

* * *

Who expected that? The identity of the mysterious-person-from-Chapter-3 will be revealed in time. In the meantime, review and tell me what you think, I like encouragement! 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Sarah opened her eyes, and it was completely dark. Obviously night had fallen while she was unconscious. Gasping slightly, every breath painful, she shakily pulled herself up.

She put a hand to her face, noticing absently it was wet with tears. She leant back against the side of an armchair, feeling utterly drained and hopeless. The house had regained sound once more, and the dense atmosphere of dreams and magic had completely disappeared. He had taken her brother.

She covered her eyes as more bitter tears fell down her face, her other hand a clenched fist. Sobbing, she hit the carpeted floor with useless rage.

She had to get him back. That was all she knew. This time there would be no clear path for her to follow, this time; she would have to make her own way. She inhaled deeply, her breathing still hitched with sobs. She tried to calm down, and fought the rising panic that welled inside her. She felt helpless, as if that confident strength she had gained while in the Labyrinth had drained away.

Shakily, using the chair arm as a support, she stood up. She dashed the tears off her face defiantly. She couldn't afford to be weak, not now.

She moved into the hall, she glanced wistfully over her shoulder, half hoping that Toby would be there. There was nothing but the dark silence, and the echo of emotions. Dismissing the feelings, she picked up a rucksack and packed some essentials in.

Almost automatically, she put on her shoes and coat. She laid a hesitant hand on the white coolness of the door. She paused, a dreadful fear resurfacing.

The moment passed, and without anymore hesitation, she opened the door. She moved outside, quietly shutting it behind her. The suburban street was as it always was. The wet pavements reflected the hazy orange streetlights, and the lights could still be seen in some of the houses. Something within her yearned for that simple comfort.

Forcing herself to walk, she crossed the street. Her feet picked up the familiar route immediately. The Park.

Some inner nagging feeling was prompting her to go there, not having any other idea what to do. She blindly followed it.

Her eyes stayed intent on the path, refusing to look up and acknowledge the others that walked the paths at night.

Keeping her gaze down as she walked steadily, she began to hear the whispers. They were following her.

'_The Labyrinth…she will challenge and win…she will not succeed…she will lose…she will gain…everything…nothing…as it seems…'_

Her pace quickened, her arms folded tensely as she moved through the darkened streets. She didn't want to hear Them, she didn't want to know…

_You've tried to ignore them long enough_, a voice within her whispered.

She sped up regardless, knowing that they would keep pace.

_You can't run forever…_

She stopped short. Closing her eyes, she could _feel_ them behind her. Standing, waiting, with an air of expectation. The familiar fear built up in her chest, dark and primal, the instinct to fight or flee.

Slowly, she turned around, and opened her eyes. Figures floated in the air, tall and indistinct. Their silvery pall hung like mist in the air, emitting a faint glow.

'_She looks…does she know…run child…Hunter's Moon…'_

Sarah felt a strange feeling of dread at their last words. Wide-eyed, she turned and ran towards the Park again. Above her, a full moon shone with a rusty hue.

She reached the park at last, her ghostly followers drifted away one by one until she was alone.

The park was lit by the soft glow of the old lamps and the cold moonlight. The bare trees around her rustled in the cold wind that swept past. Sarah shivered; her thin jacket didn't keep out the cold.

Walking slower, she wandered through the park cautiously. She sighed, feeling weary.

Brushing her hair from her eyes, she glanced around one last time.

There was a figure.

They were standing on the small bridge, staring into the water.

Sarah blinked "Wendy?" she moved closer. "Wendy!"

The girl jumped, and faced in Sarah's direction. "Sarah? You can talk…" she asked uncertainly.

Sarah reached her and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders "Why are you here?" she demanded.

Wendy was trembling "I heard them. They said…your brother." She stammered.

Sarah calmed herself with effort.

"Do you know how I can get him back?" she asked as patiently as she could.

Wendy was shaking her head "No…no, you can't. You can't go there…you…" she muttered.

"I have to! I have to get him back!" cried Sarah frustrated.

Wendy jerked her head up "No! Go back! Humans aren't supposed to go there!" she spoke quickly.

"What about my brother?" replied Sarah quietly.

"It's dangerous…too dangerous. Don't you know...?"

"Know what?" Sarah snapped, she couldn't help herself.

Wendy seemed to sense this, and became still. "Are you determined? Are you really really sure you want to do this? Because you need to be." She asked softly, almost too quiet.

There was no hesitation "Yes. I am."

Wendy nodded "Alright…Do you know what day it is?"

Sarah thought for a moment "October 31st…Halloween!" she replied, an idea beginning to dawn on her.

The other girl nodded "Tonight…the veils between the worlds are thin. You should be able to get to the Underground."

"How?"

"Tonight is Hunter's Moon. The last night of The Hunt."

Sarah searched her memory "The Wild Hunt…" she murmured, a memory half-forgotten.

"But isn't that in Britain?"

Wendy chuckled humourlessly "They are wherever they want to be."

"So…what would happen? How would I get the Underground?"

Wendy moved her head a fraction "There is a bench nearby, do you mind…?"

Sarah grimaced but acquiesced nonetheless.

They sat down and Wendy reached out a hand, Sarah was shocked by how cold it was.

The girl dismissed her concern.

"Listen to me. Tonight is the last Hunt, so you have only one chance. If you miss, it is all over, you understand?"

"Yes."

"The Hunt will ride past and…"

Sarah frowned and interrupted "Don't they ride in the sky?"

There was a slight hesitation "…They will be on the ground. Now, just listen, the Hunt will ride past, and you need to be part of it when it leaves. Whatever you do, don't be on the ground."

"Why…?"

Wendy sighed and stood up. "Just don't." she said wearily.

Sarah stood up also "When will they come?"

Wendy had taken off a small bag and was rooting through it "They will come," she broke off and made a sound of satisfaction when she found whatever she was looking for "When called." She drew a small ornate hunting horn out of her bag.

Sarah stared at it "How…?"

Wendy chuckled "Do you question everything?"

Sarah laughed bitterly "Yeah, I guess I do."

There was a pause, and the only sounds were those of the quiet night. Suddenly, Wendy clumsily hugged Sarah. Sarah stumbled but caught her balance, clasping the girl back.

"Thank you." Wendy whispered into her shoulder "Thank you."

Sarah smiled uncomfortably, surprised at the seriousness in the girl's tone. "It should be me thanking you." She said casually.

Wendy moved backwards again. "Right, are you ready?" Sarah checked her pack and steeled herself. "Yeah."

Wendy turned away "Find a tree close by, climb up."

Sarah moved to do so, but paused "What about you?" she asked quietly.

Wendy smiled "I'll be fine."

Sarah reached a nearby sturdy oak and awkwardly hoisted herself into the branches. She felt exposed in the bare boughs. She shook herself mentally and fixed her eyes on the figure standing on the bridge.

Wendy raised the horn and blew it. There was a short moment of complete silence.

Then a blast of sound came, Sarah almost fell from the tree with shock.

There was the sound of thudding hooves, howling, baying dogs, the unearthly noise of laughter and singing; and the raging wind. The leaves lying dormant on the ground whipped up in frenzy.

Sarah watched in horror as the cavalcade approached. The horses were slender beasts, with narrow hooves and slim legs. Yet they galloped with an abnormal stamina, their silver eyes never straying from their path. At their feet, dogs ran, their mouths open revealing their white sharp teeth. Their eyes were frenzied with the hunt and bloodlust. They were hunting dogs. Some were built for speed; some were built for killing with heavy jaws filled with teeth. By the lead rider, pure white dogs pranced delicately around the hooves of the horse.

Seated on the horses were the riders themselves. Their pale beauty seemed to shine in the night, and they were dressed in immaculate furs and silks. The hair of the women fluttered out behind them, tossed by the winds.

On the faces of all was an expression of fierce joy, the sheer delight of riding the wind, and the darker feelings of the hunt.

Sarah shuddered, but tensed herself. Her eyes desperately sought a way to become part of the Hunt. They were coming closer, closer.

She could see the vicarious grin on the leader of the Hunt, a wild looking man.

She suddenly saw a group of horses without riders galloping along behind the main body of the cavalcade. She prepared herself, and aimed. She tried not to think of what would happen if she fell.

_She would not fall_.

The silvery ghost-like creatures had materialised and were moving away from the Hunt, _hunted_.

The cavalcade passed under the tree, the grey horse she sought drew closer. Sarah took a deep breath, and _jumped_.

For an infinitesimal moment, she was _falling_.

With an impact that knocked the breath from her lungs, Sarah landed on the back of the horse. It screamed in fury but carried on running, bucking. She clung with all her strength, knowing she _needed_ to hold on.

Meanwhile Wendy heard the cacophony of sound which meant the Hunt was approaching. She quashed the ancient fear and the terrible urge to run.

"Run mortal! Run forever if you wish to live!" The voice was loud in her ears above everything else, it echoed with a cruel laughter.

Wendy sighed softly, clasped her hands and braced herself.

The arrow flew true.

Sarah watched with horrified eyes, still holding on.

She screamed out in denial as the cavalcade left the Aboveground.

* * *

I actuallydecided how some parts of the chapter came out by flipping a coin. Oh dear.

If you liked, please review!


	6. Chapter 6

**Way to Fall**

Chapter 6

The boy breathed softly and shifted slightly within his deep sleep. He sat half slumped, knees tucked up beneath him, on the throne. His fine blond hair fell over his young face, his head pillowed on an out flung arm. The gaudy t-shirt he wore seemed somehow out of place, an anachronism within the old castle. Underneath his eyelids, his eyes flickered.

He was dreaming.

The throne room was silent; no goblins disturbed the peace. A kind of ancient timelessness was upon the room. Golden sunlight slanted into the room, highlighting the dust as sparkling motes, and colouring the old stones yellow. The hangings seemed bleached of colour in comparison, threadbare. They retained a few bright threads, but the stories had long since faded out of existence and memory. Only in a few patches were the silhouettes of figures, battles and scenes, merely shadows. The bottom hem was smeared with dust and dirt. Despite the richness of the golden light, it was devoid of warmth.

Jareth stood by the window and watched the sun set. His expression was unguarded and almost vulnerable, wistful and introspective all at once. Arms folded, long fingers lightly gripping his fine shirt where they lay, he stood leaning against the wall next the window. His shirt was open at the throat, and the pale light fell on his porcelain skin. Unguarded though he was, his face betrayed none of thoughts if he felt regret, although a certain sadness pervaded him. His eyes were certain, if thoughtful.

It was a quiet sunset; there were no violent slashes of colour across the sky, no final blaze of defiance. Sinking slowly, inevitably towards the horizon, it simply shone a feeble golden light over the clouds and the kingdom. The butter yellow clouds had built into high fortresses beyond the edge of the land. In his youth, he had thought that there was something within those clouds. When he had learned to transform, it had almost been inevitable he would fly. His long memory recalled. It was bittersweet.

The first time. Unwieldy as a chick, the branch had seemed so precarious a perch, flexing talons in order to keep balance while it swayed in the wind. Every so often, the owl let out high shrieks of anxiety. He cast anxious glances at the castle, the safe haven, but it seemed far away. The tree was tall, a dizzying height. If he fell, it was over, he had failed. A moment's worth of bitterness flittered through him, he had only just mastered transformation and then he had immediately been put here of all places. He was so afraid of falling.

The Labyrinth, never a merciful teacher at the best of times, grew impatient. Sensing the growing tension in the air, the owl shrieked and shuffled his wings. Frantic thoughts fluttered around his mind, _please don't make me!_ But the Labyrinth was old and immovable; he was young and uncertain.

He toppled off the branch.

Falling, trying to keep hold of coherent thought, he acted almost instinctively. Somehow his outstretched wings snagged the air and his descent slowed. The owl flapped his wings and soared upwards. The cold fear vanished, and a hot exultation flowed through him. He headed for the horizon, the far away horizon.

Later, miles away from the castle and exhausted, he dropped from the sky, unable to keep the transformation any longer. Thin branches whipped at his face and body as he fell through the tree canopy. Alarmed, the Labyrinth shifted, and he landed on a soft bedding of moss. Half stunned, he laid there, bone pale and shaking with cold. On his absurdly youthful face, however, was a razor edged grin of fierce joy. He struggled up to a sitting position, trying to ignore the deep ache in his muscles. Shivering, he drew his knees up to his chin. Looking around, he noted the gathering shadows. It was growing dark, his smile faded. With very little idea of where he was, he stood, brushing the excess moss off his trousers.

It seemed he was on an incline, but the trees around him prevented him from ascertaining more. The Labyrinth tugged at his attention, it was angry. He flinched inadvertently and shook off the veiled offer of help. If he accepted the Labyrinth into his soul, he would find his way home, but he would also lose a little more of himself. He dismissed any other thoughts and concentrated on getting back. Frowning, he headed upwards through the forest of silver birches. The tree layer thinned as he trekked upwards. Tiredness dogged his every step, and the Labyrinth waited. It tested him.

The trees faded away and he came to a sort of moor. He staggered up through the tussocks of grass and uneven footing. Finally reaching the highest point of the hill, he collapsed onto the ground in a seating position. He stared at the surroundings; the hill he was on was a goodly distance from the castle, if he could remember the geography of the maps properly. Even that was uncertain. The Labyrinth was almost always in a constant state of flux. He cursed.

The sun had almost set, and he sat within a burgeoning twilight. He shivered again. Although under the Labyrinth's protection, he was still young and inexperienced, and the land could be very dangerous. He heard a feral clear call echo through the thin evening air. Struggling up to a standing position, the wind cutting through his thin clothes, he closed his eyes. He concentrated. He would find his way home.

"Yer Majesty."

A carefully neutral voice cut through his reverie, and an infinitely more cynical Jareth opened his eyes. His face was swept clean of emotion and became a faint ironic smile, revealing nothing. With a sigh, he turned around. Hoggle stood in the doorway, twisting his red leather cap in his gnarled hands. It was an older Hoggle than the one Sarah had known, although it seemed it was not time that had engraved neither the deep furrows of sorrow in his face, nor the weary resignation in his eyes. His cheeks, however, still retained a ruddy glow of health and vigour. A wary hand moved to withhold a bunch of magpie jewels from his sworn liege, his fingers curling around them protectively. Similarly, his long sleeved yellowing shirt hid from view the cheap but cherished plastic bracelet around his wrist. Hoggle knew if the King saw it he would surely open old wounds Hoggle preferred to let lie within his secret heart, ostensibly forgotten. His firm expression, though purposely blank, still retained the message of a lesson learned. There was loyalty there that had remained long after all hope had gone. The stubborn tatters of a friendship he thought he had forsaken. Jareth studied him, with half lidded measuring eyes. After a deliberate pause, he spoke. "Yes?"

Hoggle stepped forward from the doorway "Yer Majesty. I wanted to ask you about further supplies…" He stopped, catching sight of the sleeping boy. Jareth tilted his head, watching sardonically for a reaction. There were faint traces of recognition in the dwarf's face. Shaking his head, as if deciding it wasn't worth the risk, he turned his attention back to the King.

"As I was saying…" he continued in his neutral tone. It didn't hide the dislike in his eyes though. "You want to know, don't you?" Jareth interrupted, with an odd light in his eyes.

Hoggle has his gaze directed at the floor, still holding his cap in a white knuckled grip "I don't know what you mean, Majesty." He spoke quietly. The room was almost dark. Jareth laughed and waved his hand, the sconces burst into flame. Hoggle flinched.

"Don't play the fool, _Hoggle_. Ask me. Prove you aren't a coward."

Hoggle's eyes flickered up in alarm, and anger. Jareth was watching him, thoughtfully.

There was a pause. "What are you doing?" asked Hoggle levelly, staring straight at the King.

"He is Sarah's little brother. You remember Sarah? Of course you do. However, whether the opposite is still true is not so sure." His voice was deliberately flippant. Toby stirred but remained asleep. Hoggle ignored the taunt and the faint stab of hurt deep within him. He stared at the floor again. "But she won him back." He whispered almost inaudibly, frowning. He thought he had recognised the boy, he some of the same features as his older sister, a certain stubborn turn. He hadn't spoken to Sarah for so long, she hadn't called…He swiftly cut off that train of thought. It brought only pain.

Hoggle didn't speak. Jareth turned away to look out of the window. Outside in the city, lights were beginning to flicker on. Far above, the sky and stars wheeled over in a dance slower than time. He spoke softly, almost too quietly to hear "She was…She was always going to return, you know. You yourself made sure of that, didn't you?" He looked over his shoulder, the angles of face obscured in shadows.

Hoggle narrowed his eyes, but still said nothing. Jareth laughed darkly, and swung round to gaze at the dwarf. His head was bowed, and his fists clenched. "You made me. You forced me to!" Hoggle burst out passionately. The King languidly threw a peach into the air and caught it again, the dwarf's eyes followed the movement as if hypnotised.

Jareth seemed distracted, and then suddenly his eyes jerked up, intent on something Hoggle couldn't see. A sharp grin split his face; his eyes were brilliant with anticipation. "Oh Hoggle," he said, delighted "It's only just started."

* * *

Useless tears flowing down her cheeks, Sarah gritted her teeth and held on. The horse creature screamed and bucked. It was painful to hold on but Sarah's arms felt frozen in horror. Her vision was blurred with tears. She sobbed, with great hacking breaths. She had never wanted to see death again. That memory stayed with her, playing out in cruel slow motion in her mind. The arrow flew, and a faint shadow reared up behind the girl, embracing her as the arrow thudded into her body. All happening in a moment.

Closing her eyes, Sarah held on tighter. She could feel the horse's neck muscles bunch under her arms. The horse shook its head fiercely, still thundering along at a gallop. She finally opened her eyes, concentrating on more than just holding on. There was little to see, only swirling diaphanous clouds. Within the mists, there seemed to be shapes. Terrible shadows and gargoyle faces. They writhed and screeched, just out of reach. It could have been any dark medieval vision of hell.

Utterly petrified, Sarah stared with wide eyes. She began to hyperventilate, and her grip loosened. Fixated on the horrible spectacle, she barely noticed. Her concentration wavered, as her vision stayed infuriatingly clear. She knew, with a devastating certainty, that if she fell in this place she would never save Toby and she would have a fate worse than death. That thought gave her desperate strength.

"No." she breathed hoarsely "It can't end here. It _won't._"

She clung on, and stared straight ahead. The other riders in the cavalcade seemed unaffected by this place. They rode on, still laughing and urging their mounts on. Sarah took great lungfuls of air, it seemed like it was getting thinner. She grew more and more short of breath, until it seemed she might pass out. She swayed, dizzy. "Oh god." She murmured "Can it get any worse?" The mocking laughter rang on in her ears.

Suddenly, a harsh wind caught hold of her loose hair, and she narrowed her eyes. It was cold, terribly cold. Sarah shook the hair out of her eyes and looked down, breathing deeply. It was still cloudy, but they were normal. Tiny beads of moisture collected on the white mane of the horse, as delicate as diamonds. Her arms were so tired, leaden with fatigue. The oppressive dread was gone. The horse was still furious; it seemed to have regained more energy after emerging from the crossing over. Sarah closed her eyes wearily, the screaming pain in her muscles too great to bear.

They loosened only slightly, but it was enough. The horse gave one great buck, and she was _falling_.

She was robbed of breath; the wind rushed up and buffeted her body. Screaming, she fell twisting like a doll, clawing at the empty air. The cloud layer disappeared, and an iron grey expanse of water rushed up to greet her. Fighting, forcing her tired muscles to react, she straightened. She tried to prepare herself, as straight and neat as an arrow when she dropped into the water. There was a splash, and Sarah was underwater.

The terrible silence was all around her, she threw out her arms to stall herself. The shock of the drop had forced the air from her lungs. Feeling the burning in her lungs, she kicked desperately, hoping it was the right direction.

She reached the surface, and gasped, breathing deeply. The water was unpleasantly cold, and Sarah knew she had to get out soon. There was glimmer of light through the thick mists. She began to tiredly swim towards it; her mind was about as clear as her foggy surroundings, but fixed on that notion of safety.

It was determination more than anything that meant she finally reached the shore. Her leg hit the bottom. Shaking with cold, coughing and weak, she stood up. She stumbled towards the pebbled shore, occasionally tripping under the sudden weight of her sodden clothes. Finally reaching dry land, she unceremoniously fell down onto her stomach. She closed her eyes, shivering and wet.

"My life is utter shite." She muttered.

She just lay there for a time, feeling defeated. She sighed heavily, and flopped onto her back. Her rational brain was screaming at her to do something, anything. She had vague visions of a fire, of the necessity of getting dry clothes, of being warm and comfortable. However, a far simpler part of her reminded her that she was completely exhausted.

A bitter laugh escaped her blue lips, and her almost frozen fingers held onto the smooth pebbles of the beach. The sky was veiled in fog and mist. It had grown darker, and above her it swirled, elegant and malevolent. She knew she still had far to go to even reach Toby, let alone getting back home.

A deep, dark desperation took hold of her, a sort of madness. She lay there, and time lost all meaning. Minutes, memories and forever slipped past her with no real significance. She could barely feel her body anymore; a sense of weightlessness swallowed her. Visions of a distant urgency racked her. A boy she loved who needed her, sleeping and dreaming and forgetting. Friends, once cherished and once lost, waiting to be found. A strange dead girl who reached for her with her sightless eyes, even as she fell away into darkness. A King of rags and ruins, who waited in a distant castle, wreathed in deception and illusion and his eyes shadowed with lies. A journey, the horizon stretching off into eternity, the road ready for her footsteps. The way back was her way forward.

* * *

Wow, I updated! I hope you approve of the slightly longer chapter. I am in fact trying to edit the other chapters to make them longer too - don't worry, no drastic changes! Anyway please review and tell me what you think. Thank you to all reviewers so far!


	7. Chapter 7

**Way to Fall**

Chapter 7

Sarah's return to consciousness was sudden and painful. Her vision swam fuzzily into focus, a man stood in front of her. She blinked at him groggily.

"Did…you…" Her voice was slightly slurred "Did you just slap me?"

The man shaped figure stepped forward, and held up a hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked calmly. Sarah screwed up her eyes, feeling soggy and more than a little cold.

"Do I," she paused to collect her thoughts "look like I care?"

He stepped back with a soft laugh, and moved over to a wooden table. He picked up a flask, and twisted off the stopper. Sarah watched him warily as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. He walked back over and held it in front of her face impassively.

She frowned absently "Don't accept drinks from strangers." she muttered.

He made a small sound of impatience "Trust me, it'll wake you up."

She gave a half-shrug, and realising that she wasn't tied up she grabbed the flask. She glanced at him sceptically. With a sigh, he took back the flask and casually took a swig himself. Lowering it, he wiped the top with his sleeve and tilted his head sardonically. He held it out again. Sarah shrugged and accepted the flask once again, she stared at it a moment. She drank some, turned red and began choking.

He stoically removed the flask from her flailing hands, and watched as she gasped and clutched her throat. He was right, it _had_ woken her up, she thought grimly. She glared at him, and the slight smile he wore. "Not funny." She said hoarsely.

The man shook the flask lightly "Best stuff around." He paused. "The _only_ stuff around, I suppose."

Feeling a lot more alert, she pushed herself up on the chair and looked around. She was in a kind of cabin. Heavy logs formed the walls, but were draped in furs. It was rather untidy, but the large fire pit in the centre made it warm and stuffy. A sleeping cubicle was wedged into the corner, and most of the furniture looked hand carved. The low ceiling sloped over her head. She watched as he walked over to the fire and stirred the embers with a stick.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice still a little croaky. He turned around and looked at her. "Just an old trapper." He saw her sceptical expression "But you can call me Thom." He looked like he had once had an expressive face, but it had been schooled over the years into impassiveness. There was a weather-beaten, world weary look about his strong features and his dark hair was streaked with grey. She decided he looked trustworthy.

She bowed her head politely "I'm Sarah."

Thom nodded and walked over to another chair, which was covered in furs like Sarah's. Sitting down, he looked at her. "Now, how did you get here?"

She watched him "I'm on my way to somewhere else." She said carefully.

He chucked quietly, and scratched his neck. "That didn't answer my question." He murmured.

"Well, it's a little hard to answer when I don't know where I am." Sarah sighed and sank back into the seat.

"You are in a godforsaken pit of nowhere in the Underground." He said dryly, and unscrewed the flask once more.

"How can you drink that stuff?" Sarah eyed it with distaste.

He chuckled and took a swig "It becomes a remarkably pleasant pastime in comparison with the other available activities." He looked at her in a considering way "You might want to get out of those wet clothes."

She scrambled up in alarm. "Perhaps I should be leaving." She said frostily.

He shrugged "If going out in the middle of the night in freezing blizzards is your thing."

She continued to glare at him, stony-eyed. He slumped back, and sighed. "While admittedly living in the pit of nowhere does leave me somewhat deprived of female company, I do have morals. Relax."

She sat, albeit cautiously. "Where's my bag?" she asked politely. He didn't say anything, but motioned behind him with a hand. He stared into the fire thoughtfully.

Sarah got up and moved towards the door. She picked up her bag and walked back over to the chair. She rummaged through it and picked out her dripping spare clothes. "Useful." She said tonelessly. Luckily most of the rest of the things she had put in plastic bags and were relatively dry.

There was silence as they both watched the fire. A log broke in a shower of sparks, and the fire hissed. Outside, winds howled and whistled.

"So, how did you get here? I found you on the beach, wet and half dead. I take it the dip in the lake wasn't voluntary?" he asked suddenly.

She shook her head mutely, and then realised he was awaiting an explanation. For a fleeting moment she thought her years of silence had been somewhat of a blessing, but it passed quickly. "I…don't come from here." She said quietly.

"I guessed. Mortal?"

Sarah looked up curiously "Yes. Um…"

He grinned bitterly "What am I? I was a mortal too…once."

Thom shifted in his seat and leant forward "So, what brings you to the Underground. I would think it would take a bit of an effort to get here."

Sarah felt a sudden irrational urge to cry, she stifled it roughly. "Someone…very important to me has been stolen." She said, a lump in her throat.

His dark eyes glittered in the low light. "That's why most people come here. Few succeed though." He finished quietly.

Sarah narrowed her eyes "I will." She said in a low voice.

His eyebrows rose "Really? What makes you so sure?" he asked interestedly.

"I've done it once, I can do it again." She avoided his eyes and looked into the fire.

His eyebrows, if it were possible, rose further. "…Really?"

Looking back at him, she gave the ghost of a smile. "Really."

Sarah felt a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. She grunted slightly and held her hand to her forehead. Thom watched impassively. "Interesting as this is, I think you need to get some sleep. You were half dead, after all." He jerked his head towards the sleeping cubicle "Go on. I'll use the chair."

She smiled at him gratefully, and took herself and her steaming clothes over to the bed. She collapsed down onto the warm furs and was soon asleep.

Thom gazed at her silently, and then transferred his attention to the fire. He spent the rest of the night deep in introspection.

* * *

Sarah awoke to an empty cabin. She sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes. "Thom?" she called out curiously. She felt, if not entirely perky, at least a little refreshed. She swung her legs off the bed and stood up. The fire had dimmed, and she poked it with another stick. It flickered feebly, so she threw another few logs on. She hoped vaguely that it didn't kill the fire.

Plucking at her sleeve, she realised that her clothes had finally dried. She paused, staring into the fire, her arms folded.

Dismissing her sad thoughts, she briskly walked over to the door. White light seeped through the small cracks around the door. Picking up a fur, she wrapped herself in it and opened the door. The sudden light blinded, and she realised just how low the light levels were in the cabin. She stood there for a few minutes, squinting her watering eyes.

Recovering, she stepped out onto the snow. It glittered, pale and perfect, and crunched under foot. The pebble beach and then the lake were spread out before her. She closed the door carefully and stepped forward. The lake was perfectly still, with a grey mirror like surface. It was bitterly cold, and her breath ghosted out in front of her. She felt thankful for the insulation of the fur. A few flakes of snow still drifted down lazily, Sarah tilted up her face and breathed the cold air into her lungs. The clouds were low, and the rest of the lake disappeared into the mists.

She trudged through the layer of snow and looked at the scenery behind the cabin. There was a brief snowy expanse of white, but then there was a forest. The trees were dark, but the boughs were heavy with snow. The falling snow had not yet covered a set of footprints leading into the forest. Sarah relaxed, and hoped her trust was not unfounded.

She felt a sudden deep moment of panic. How far was she from the Labyrinth? It would have been better to simply wish herself into Jareth's hands rather than be leagues away from it.

With a sigh, she realised that she would get cold if she stayed out much longer. She made her way back to the cabin. Closing the door behind her, the air seemed stifling within the cabin. She sat down in the chair by the sputtering fire.

A few minutes later, Thom entered the cabin, swathed in furs and carrying a bag. He pulled down his hood, and vigorously ruffled his hair. "Urgh." He said coherently. On catching sight of her, he smiled "Good, you're awake. Want some food?"

She nodded quietly, with a smile. He moved around the cabin and opened a cabinet. "There's only dried meat I'm afraid."

Sarah hardly heard him "Thom…Do you have any maps?" she asked suddenly, tearing her gaze from the dwindling fire.

He stopped, and looked thoughtful. "Maps…aren't much good here. What're you looking for?"

"…The Labyrinth."

His eyes widened, but then he got control once more and looked mildly interested. "I know it." He said guardedly.

Sarah sat up eagerly "Where is it? Is it near?"

Thom walked over, and handed her some dried meat wordlessly. He took the other seat.

"It's not too far. Beyond the forest. But no-one enters unless invited, you know that?"

Sarah frowned "Are you sure?"

Thom unbuttoned his coat "Pretty much. But you said…you said you'd been here before. I'm not sure the same rules would apply."

Sarah nodded. "That's right. But I have to try. There's no other choice."

Thom watched her "You won't be able to do it alone." He ran a hand through his hair. "Wouldn't be too good if I sent the first person I'd spoken to for god knows how long into the forest to die."

Sarah was vainly trying to push her hair into some sort of order. "Is the forest really that bad? I couldn't ask you to do that though."

Thom stood briskly "You don't have to. I'm volunteering. Besides," he avoided her curious eyes "I have my own reasons."

The silence that followed his speech made Sarah decide it was probably best not to ask. She needed to get Toby back, and if Thom would help her do that, she didn't care what his motives were.

It wasn't as if she had much choice, after all.

"Thank you." She said gravely. "Um, I don't mean to sound rude but, when can we leave?"

Thom didn't pause in his movement around the cabin, "How well do you feel?" he asked, picking up several items from the floor of the cabin.

Ignoring the deep cold ache in her bones, and the dull protest her muscles made whenever she moved, she replied "I'm fine."

Kneeling by the bed, he flipped up the covers and looked underneath it. "The weather seems fine, and it's still pretty early. There's not much daylight here. So we should go quite soon. Plus…You seem in a little bit of hurry." He pulled out a few things.

Sarah smiled with relief. Thom looked around at her. "It's going to take me a little while to get ready. Why don't you sleep some more?"

Sarah began to protest, but was stopped by Thom holding up his hand. "You're going to need all your energy. Do it, and eat something."

Sarah looked contemplatively at the strips of dried meat she barely remembered taking. It didn't look so appetising, she sighed. She glanced up and saw Thom's back was turned; she stuffed them into her bag and took out a cereal bar. She ate it as quickly as she could, and had a mouth full when he turned around her again.

"Mmm." She said unconvincingly, with an equally fake smile. He smiled briefly and went back to work. She chewed the bar hastily and swallowed it down.

Then she sank down in the chair, and closed her eyes; she slipped quietly into her dreams.

* * *

_**Toby?**_

_Sarah…?_

_I'm forgetting Sarah. I'm forgetting you, and Dad, and Mom. I'm forgetting home. Please…Come soon. You have to._

_**I will Toby, I will. Oh God, Toby…**_

_Don't cry Sarah. _

_Just come soon._

_Please._

* * *

Review, or I'll cry.

No, really, tell me what you think. Style different? Too little happening? Tell me people. I'm trying to update more regularly now I've got a more solidified plot line in my head now. Not that I like started this without knowing where it was going or anything. Of course not.

Ahem.


	8. Chapter 8

**Way to Fall**

Chapter 8

The view had been very much the same for the last few hours, although the time passed strangely here. Her watch had stopped long ago, soaked in the lake. Sarah glumly stared at Thom's back and trudged through the snow. They hadn't spoken for a while, Thom wasn't the most talkative of people, and she…Well, force of habit.

All around her were thin trees crystallised in the white beauty of the snow. An eerie silence hung over the forest. She'd been lost the moment she had entered, and had no idea how Thom was finding his way. Their tracks were being covered by the gently falling flakes of snow. It was already beginning to get dark, but Thom had assured her there would be a full moon to guide them

Sarah looked up dubiously; it was far too misty to even see the tops of the trees, let alone the sky.

She shivered, she was warm in the many furs she'd been bundled up in but there was a quiet air of menace in the forest. Thom seemed quite at his ease, and Sarah wondered if the stifled anger was directed at her. She shuddered once more, and tried not to think about her aching legs. She let out a sigh, and it froze immediately into a wisp of mist.

Thom paused, and turned around. "You alright?" he asked sharply. Sarah smiled wearily "I'm fine."

He continued to look at her seriously. "The going will only get tougher from now on, the forest will grow thicker. You sure you don't want a rest?"

Sarah shook her head emphatically, the remnants of the dream still stayed with her. Real or not, it only reminded her of the urgency. She needed to reach the Labyrinth.

Thom nodded in understanding. He seemed poised to turn around, but he paused. His breath ghosted out in front of him. He looked up, narrowing his eyes. "Do you feel it?" he whispered.

Sarah glanced around, alarmed. Thom swung around briskly. "We'd better move faster." He said calmly.

Thom was right; the forest only seemed to get darker and denser as they walked on further. A thick fog formed around Sarah's ankles, she looked down every so often concernedly. It swirled around them as they moved swiftly through the forest.

The darkness only seemed to increase, the evergreen trees crowded closely around them. They kept on walking; Sarah began to feel weak and shaky. It had been a while since she had eaten, and the last twenty four hours were taking their toll, not to mention they'd been walking steadily for hours. Finally she stopped.

"Thom…" she said weakly. He turned around suddenly. Sarah swayed but stayed upright. He realised it was only pure determination that had brought her this far.

He made a move towards her, but Sarah's sudden stricken look stopped him.

"The fog…" she said fearfully "It's rising. Thom!"

It rippled, thick and grey, around their waists. Thom stared at her, disturbed. He'd never seen anything like this in all his years living with the forest. His gaze snapped up to Sarah's pale terrified face. Her breathing was getting shallower, she was starting to panic. He held out his head urgently "Sarah." He called, trying to remain calm. It seemed she couldn't hear him, her wide eyes flickered back and forth, and she stepped back. He could see her lips forming words he couldn't hear.

"Sarah!" he called more loudly, his voice harsh with fear. He tried to step forward, but he was frozen on the spot, his hand still held out. He could feel the freezing stillness spread up his body. He fell to ground with a soft rustle, unconscious. A thin line of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

The fog rose in waves, washing over the two. Sarah could feel a terrible pressure pressing her down, ruthlessly taking advantage of her weakness. She couldn't think, and the mist was rising, inexorable. She could see Thom standing there, casual.

"Help me, help me!" she whimpered to him. He just smiled, and began to walk away through the mists. She felt the betrayal keenly, and the dense pressure in her mind took advantage, whispering cruelly to her.

_Coward cruel weak you let him go, you let him go…_

She dropped to her knees, onto the snow. She swept her hood off and held her head desperately, screwing up her eyes. The pressure and sound built and increased until it became unbearable. She screamed in pain, tears squeezed out of her eyes. The pressure disappeared suddenly, and she fell down into the snow like a puppet with cut strings. She could feel the snow, bitingly cold against her cheek. Opening her eyes, all she could see was grey.

There was a silence. Then there were the footsteps.

Slow and deliberate, they stepped lightly over the snow. She blinked once, and they were there, moving out of the mist towards her.

She closed her eyes, as if to refuse their existence. Painfully cold fingers took hold of her face, wrenching it up. She uttered a small cry of pain and her eyes flew open.

It was a stranger. A man, she thought fearfully. His features were nondescript and ageless, and strangely universal. He could be any faceless person in a crowd, blurred at the edges and indistinct. But his skin was pale, far too pale. Similarly pale hair surrounded his face, and the human shaped being had no colour in his eyes. Only dark deep pupils that irresistibly brought to Sarah's mind the dreadful emptiness of the oubliette.

That little place of forgetting.

She could feel the stone cold of his hand seeping into her. "What the hell are you?" she spat out. He continued to stare at her with a strange expression, and there was still that apathy in his eyes. She realised the indecipherability of his expression was due to the fact he wasn't human – he wasn't anything approaching alive. Yet there was animation and a keen intelligence. There were so many thoughts in the face, it was unsettling. But he wasn't even breathing.

"Have you not guessed yet?" The voice was light and strangely sexless.

His other hand took her arm, and twisted it behind her back. She arched her back instinctively, gasping in pain. The creature brought his face close to hers, and studied her intently; she turned her face away in disgust, weakly trying to get her arm free despite the pain.

"Such a brave girl, getting this far. No wonder _he_ loves you." He murmured. There was a peculiar emphasis on the word 'he', as if it were something infinitely precious.

Sarah stilled suddenly in her struggle. "What?" she whispered in shock, her eyes snapped up to him. The creature looked at her, and removed his hand from gripping her chin. A finger traced around her eyes. "Beautiful, but he would not let us take them." He said softly.

Sarah's eyes widened and she sobbed as realisation flooded her.

_The eyes…_

_His so cold and deep yet familiar._

_The Labyrinth._

_She remembered that long ago adventure. How she casually passed by the moss, how its eyes followed her. _

"You're…the Labyrinth…"

_In comparison, her voice was a small sacrifice. Even if people returned, they could see what they were not meant to. Their payment was their sight, and it decorated the walls of the Labyrinth like the spoils of war._

The creature smiled in satisfaction. "Clever girl." As if to undermine its seemingly kind words, it tugged at the arm behind her back. She gritted her teeth, feeling the bone grind in its socket.

"I am a…representative, of sorts." It continued off-handedly, as if it were remarking on the weather. "You are his weakness. He always disobeys us when it comes to you." It continued the surreal conversation.

She tried to pay attention to his words, but her concentration was slipping towards blackness, beckoned by the white pain that pounded from her shoulder.

It seemed to realise she wasn't paying attention, and peculiarly relaxed its iron grip. The pain eased slightly and she breathed in relief. It seemed he…it? Wanted her to listen.

"I cannot let you carry on. It is a regrettable circumstance, since he wants you to." Sarah struggled and raised her eyes to his. There was conflict within those dark expanses.

"…What?" she whispered.

_Memory and speculation fought for dominance._

'_Do you like my labyrinth?'_

_The hints of familiarity. The Labyrinth was part of the Goblin King, that, in some way she had always known. But…It seemed they were more intertwined, both had a little of the other._

Too many thoughts clamoured in her mind. Her blindly steady youthful ignorance wavered - the innocent arrogance that had allowed her to win once before and she had thought would carry her through again – it wavered, and it broke.

The lines drawn were indistinct, there were no clear boundaries. There was no black and white. Nothing was as it seemed.

"We must be free of you." It whispered, and knelt in the snow before her. She cried silently, tears slipping down her cheeks. It swept the hair from her face, with icy cold fingers, eyes lingering on her features. Her arm was released suddenly, and the pain that she had almost been able to light-headedly ignore returned with a vengeance. She moaned and held her shoulder.

It shushed her, and tenderly placed its hands around her throat. The cold made her gasp, and her pulse fluttered wildly under its inhuman touch. "No, please…No…" she found herself murmuring desperately, as she clutched and scratched at the implacable hands.

"You will not change what has been many eons before you, and will remain after you are gone." The words seemed there, and then again it seemed they had never been there at all.

The pressure on her neck increased.

Growing dizzy and faint, she swiped clumsily at it. "I just want my brother back…" The plea flickered from her lips.

"He is ours now."

Sarah slumped, and the Labyrinth continued, with a kind of triumphant sorrow, to choke the life from her. "I am sorry, little girl, but this is necessary."

"I can't…I…" she managed to cough out, fading.

"Goodbye."

Suddenly the dreamy silence of the misty clearing was shaken.

A stormy wind crashed through the trees and disturbed the fog. Snow fell off the boughs of the trees, billowing up on impact. The violent gusts cleared the air, and suddenly _he_ was there.

And the Goblin King was furious.

Pale and livid, he stood there clothed in black, a stark contrast. His eyes burned with anger, staring at the Labyrinth's manifestation.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a tightly controlled voice. The winds still blew violently, whipping clothing and hair to and fro.

The Labyrinth stood up, and Sarah dropped to the floor. The manifestation's gaze didn't flicker, intent on Jareth. It noticed that he, however, followed her descent with well concealed anxiety.

"For the first time, it seems, we are at odds." The Labyrinth said easily.

"Why?" Jareth demanded, stepping forwards.

The Labyrinth glanced down at the prostrate girl. "You cannot keep your soul hidden from us."

Jareth smiled grimly "But it appears the opposite is also true."

The Labyrinth glanced at him sharply. "You forget the balance of power."

Jareth glared back defiantly, and remained standing as waves of pain crashed through him. A drip of blood slipped down his chin from where he had bitten his lip. He had grown pale, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

The pain subsided, and Jareth almost stumbled, but stayed upright. The Labyrinth stood still, detached and aloof. "It is only through mercy that we stop, our son."

Jareth didn't say anything, but stared back guardedly.

"And it is through mercy that we rid you of this mortal. Whatever you plan is useless."

Jareth smiled a small, thin smile and shook his head.

The manifestation shifted, becoming more female, more matronly. "Come back to us." The voice was soft, coaxing.

Jareth closed, and remembered the long ago days when he had loved the Labyrinth. The fierce loyalty had dwindled over the time into smouldering resentment. It was tempting, to forget his plans and intrigues and hand over his soul. To become free of feeling, of pain. But…

He opened his eyes, and they were sorrowful, but determined. The Labyrinth narrowed its eyes. "We offered you one last chance, but in your foolishness you will not take it. So it is."

The manifestation turned to the prone girl, who was beginning to stir, and held out a hand.

"No!" shouted Jareth, and threw out his own hand. An invisible ball of power shot out towards the Labyrinth. The Labyrinth triggered the pain within him, and sent him to his knees, before disappearing.

Jareth grunted, and waited as the bright pain shimmered through him. Minutes passed, and Sarah struggled to sit up. The pain passed, and Jareth stood fluidly as if nothing had happened, wiping the blood from his face.

He swept over to her, and knelt down. Sarah held a hand to her head, but her face was cast down. "Sarah." He said softly.

Her eyes flickered open, and she started when she saw him. She stared into his eyes, and he could clearly see the conflict of emotions, though she still seemed a little woozy.

"Who are you really?" she said hoarsely.

He smiled enigmatically and ignored the question. He touched her cheek lightly "Are you alright?" he asked gently.

She batted away his hand distractedly. "I need to know." She whispered. He smiled sadly. "I'm sorry Sarah, but this is the way it had to be." He said thoughtfully.

Sarah looked at him, confused.

In the sky above them both, the mists had cleared, and a bright full moon cast silver light over them. She raised her other hand to sweep her hair back, and winced. He saw her flinch, and touched her shoulder.

"It's only twisted." She said dismissively, uncomfortable with his proximity. She was uncomfortable with him being there at all, though she was conscious that this was second time he had saved her life. She didn't know what to make of him. And then there was…

She glanced at him, but he seemed intent on probing her shoulder. She flinched as he touched a sore spot. Could he really love her? She didn't know. She didn't understand him. One minute he was saving her, the next he was fulfilling all her expectations as a villain.

"Where's Toby?" she asked suddenly.

He looked at her, and gave the ghost of a smile "At the castle beyond the Goblin City, of course. Beyond hardships unnumbered and hardships untold." He laid his palm on her shoulder, and sudden warmth permeated the socket.

Sarah shifted back, away from him. Her shoulder felt better, at any rate. "Thank you." She said cautiously.

He nodded politely.

"So, what happens now?" asked Sarah. "Are you going to stop me?" Honestly, she wasn't quite sure what she was doing, feeling still a little faint. Part of her needed to know, desperately needed to know who he was, what was happening.

"Of course."

"Why?"

Jareth stood up but gave her a sidelong look. "Because I'm the Goblin King."

"This isn't a game!" she cried suddenly, frustrated with his apparently flippant attitude.

He swung round, his eyes intense "You think I don't know that?" he said sharply. He knelt down once again in front of her.

He grasped her by her shoulders, and examined her face closely. "What are you doing?" she murmured. She could feel her face growing warm, and hated herself for it.

She couldn't look away, locked in his predator gaze. He leant near. His eyes flickered over her uncertain features, they could feel each other's warmth. She swayed, feeling weak. His arms drew her closer, embracing her limp body.

Her hands clutched his shirt nervously. She couldn't think, only feel his terrible closeness. He held her gently.

Closing her eyes, she whispered "Jareth…"

His eyes widened, and he smiled sadly. He pulled her closer still, and murmured into her ear "I'm…sorry."

And then, all at once, she was alone, in the Aboveground.

* * *

Please review. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Way to Fall**

Chapter 9

Sarah opened her eyes, and had for a moment a single second of blissful ignorance. Then the memories came sliding back in a suffocating avalanche. She winced, and tried to sit up.

She was on a bench, in the park. A pale light filtered through the thick cloud layer.

Her eyes widened, and she stood up weakly. "No." she whispered. "No!" More loudly this time - a cry of desperation.

A nearby early-morning dog walker increased his pace significantly, after casting a quick alarmed gaze at her.

She stared back for a moment, and then sat down once again, silently.

A dark weight was in her chest, but she wouldn't cry. She couldn't. She just had to find a way back.

The wise man's words came back to her, and she smiled briefly. The way forward? Well, at least this time he was right.

She stood up, grimly determined. She was determined to get back and equally determined to not to think into why she was back. All she needed to think about was Toby. Not the Labyrinth, or the Goblin King.

She brushed herself down, and stiffened when her fingers touched her bruised throat. Pausing momentarily, she shrugged off the furs, and turned up the collar of her coat. She began walking. A cold dread lay in the pit of her stomach, when she realised what direction she was automatically heading in. Home.

She was returning without Toby. Her father and Karen would be frantic. But she had no choice.

Hunching her shoulders, and shoving her hands into her pockets, she forced herself to walk. Despite her determination, tears trailed silently down her cheeks.

* * *

A dark, deep silence lay over the forest. The snow lay in peaceful drifts, sparkling in the ancient light of the moon. The trees stood around him like dark shadows, and from far away came the distant howls of creatures best left alone. Once they got a scent, they never stopped until their prey was dead. The sound awoke him, as well as the distinct dread that raced through his spine. Thom stirred, and groaned. He was shivering violently as he sat up awkwardly. There were delicate twists of frost forming over his face, freezing the small trail of blood leading from his mouth. He held his head in his hands a few moments, gathering his scattered wits. 

Suddenly, he stiffened and scrambled to his feet in a flurry of movement and snowflakes. He swung around, his eyes searching the deserted glade desperately. "Sarah?" he cried.

The sound echoed through the forest, through the cold crisp air.

The glade fairly sparked with magic, he could feel the static as it crackled and began to fade in occasional shows of faint colour. It must have been a strong entity, to have left behind such a large trace. They, whoever they were, had obviously been an ally of the forest. The forest, as old and steeped in magic as it was, contained a distant sentience of its own, and usually did not allow such displays.

Sarah, evidently, had a powerful enemy.

He examined the ground. There had obviously been a struggle, Sarah had fallen…Thom paused, and looked over the ground again. Before, he had assumed there had been only one other entity in the glade. But the two sets of footsteps showed the truth.

But where was Sarah?

Thom stood still for a moment, breathing in and exhaling the bitingly cold air under the cold moonlight, his eyes glittering. He made a choice, and began to walk.

* * *

Sarah paused in front of the door. The car was in the drive, but otherwise the street seemed oddly quiet. She hesitantly placed her hand on the door frame, and dug about in her bag for her keys. Every movement was slow, weary and unwilling. Finally, she put the keys in the lock, and tried to ignore the fear and sadness coiling within her. She opened the door. 

She stepped in guardedly.

A figure appeared from the front room, wiping her hands on a towel. Karen fixed her stepdaughter with a cold gaze. "Oh, it's you." She said bitterly.

"Karen…" Sarah whispered, startled by the animosity in the older woman.

Karen stepped forward, "Oh, so I have a name now?" she spat. She looked Sarah up and down insolently "I can guess where you've been, returning in the morning."

Sarah stepped back, bumping into the door.

"But Karen, Toby…" she said, shocked beyond rational thought.

Karen continued, the quicksilver poison dripping from her words. "Toby? Who's this Toby? Your new little boyfriend is he?" She sneered.

Sarah looked closer, and saw lines on the face of Karen she had never seen before. Pain, bitterness, cruelty. In the hallway, where once there had been photos of the family with a smiling shaggy-haired blonde boy, the surfaces were spotless and empty. The house was clean, too clean. There were no dirty trainers, no mess of wires in the living room from his Playstation. Toby didn't even exist here anymore.

And it seemed like he never had.

"I'm going upstairs." Sarah muttered, looking at the floor and moving past Karen.

The older woman bared her teeth "Once I convince your father, you'll be out of here, you hear me?" She cried as Sarah fled. "You'll be gone!"

Sarah breathed in short little gasps, and clasped her coat nearer trying not to hear the harsh sobs of the woman below. Sarah had never realised how much Karen had needed a child of her own.

She burst into her own room, and shut the door behind her, her breathing slowing after minutes of tense silence. Her eyes drifted over the comforting familiar surroundings, lingering on the bed wearily.

Her gaze suddenly stopped. The mirror.

_If you should need us…_

She hadn't spoken to them in so long, after losing her voice. It was impossible to call when you were silent, she thought ruefully.

She threw down her bag and coat, and sat down by her vanity mirror. She gazed earnestly at her own wild-eyed reflection. She took a deep breath.

"Hoggle, I need you."

Nothing happened, except a fading of hope within her eyes.

"Hoggle…" she whispered, hoarsely. "Please, I need you."

Seconds ticked by, she turned to the side, and closed her eyes.

"Sarah?" The voice was guarded and flat, but there all the same. She looked up, with a radiant smile. "Hoggle!" Her joy faded at his frowning expression. "Hoggle…" She said uncertainly, seeing that behind his flinty expression, was the hurt of betrayal.

"I'm sorry." She said simply.

His expression didn't falter. "Yer brother."

She nodded, her hair falling over her eyes. "The Labyrinth has him."

Hoggle watched her keenly. "The Goblin King has 'im." He said grimly.

She looked up from her inspection of the table "Both, I think. He's forgetting, Hoggle. They don't even remember him here." She said steadily, but with hitches in her voice.

Hoggle's face softened infinitesimally.

"I've already tried to go back but…"

"How?" Sarah jumped at Hoggle's sudden interjection. She could see he was leaning forward, searching her face intently.

She swallowed. "The Wild Hunt. I reached a forest of some kind." She whispered.

Shadows flitted across his face, and he shook his head. "The Netherwoods."

"Yes… Then the Labyrinth tried to kill me, and the Goblin King sent me back." She said, trying to be as objective as possible.

Hoggle's eyes widened.

Sarah leant forward, her shoulders hunched. "Hoggle, I need your help, please. I need to get back to the Labyrinth to save Toby. I have to save him."

Hoggle sighed, and looked away. "I was brave for yer once, Sarah; it's too much for a coward to act again."

Sarah shook her head slowly "You stopped being a coward long ago, Hoggle."

Hoggle looked up at her, hurt and anger simmering in his gaze. "How would you know? I'll help yer, Sarah, but don' expect me to forgive yer."

"Hoggle! Don't think I just forgot you! I didn't call because I couldn't!" Sarah cried.

The dwarf didn't speak. Sarah sighed, and covered her face with her hands. The awkward silence dragged on.

Hoggle watched Sarah silently, his fingers clasping an old plastic bracelet subconsciously.

"Close yer eyes, and hold out yer hand." He said evenly.

She removed her hands from her face, and stared at him in shock.

"Thank you, Hoggle, thank you." She whispered.

He grumbled irritably, and tried to stifle a warm glow within his chest. "Jus' do as I say."

She gripped her coat and bag, and complied. A warm calloused hand gripped her own, and there was a moment of dizzying nausea. A darkness which seemed to last forever, but lasted only seconds.

She tumbled out onto a reassuringly solid ground, still holding her eyes tightly shut she curled into a foetal position. "Oh God…" She ground out, trying to convince her stomach to stay down.

There were several clinking sounds, and the sound of something being poured. A hand rested on her shoulder. "Drink, it should stop yer bein' sick."

She opened her eyes gingerly, and took the proffered earthenware cup tentatively. She drank, and a bitter concoction of herbal tea made her gag. The roiling feeling in her stomach subsided as quickly as a wave from the shore. She muttered her thanks, her eyes closing again.

There was creaking sound as Hoggle presumably sat down. Faint light filtered through her eyelids, and she opened them slowly. She sat up, crossing her legs, shielding her eyes with one hand. Pale morning sunlight streamed in through the small window, which was conservatively framed by dusty blue curtains. The room was small, but had a high ceiling crossed with old stained beams. The furniture around her was old, and obviously well used. Hoggle was seated in a comfortable old armchair by the fireplace which held a pathetic little fire. Without looking at her, he leaned down the side of the chair and picked up a log from a wicker basket, chucking it onto the fire with aplomb. A sleeping booth was tucked into the corner beside the fire. A work surface lay to the left, which held the beginnings of a preparation for a meal. Behind her was an old mirror, with finely wrought iron decoration around the edges.

Hoggle noticed her looking at the mirror. "Passed down the family, that, from when my great-granpa worked in the mines. I was more like me granma's side though, they loved growin' things." He trailed off, scratching his head under the cap.

"It's lovely." Sarah said absently, trying to accept the fact she was actually in the Labyrinth.

Hoggle stood up, with another extended creak from the armchair. He walked over to a small table, and picked up a coat from the rickety chair. He put it on, and straightened it consciously. He paused.

"I've gotta go out, I'm gonna tell Didymus an' Ludo that yer 'ere. And…" He stopped again. "We're going to need to hide yer presence. They're gonna know you've arrived but they'll need time yet to find out, and that gives us time to hide yer." He said quickly.

Sarah smiled gratefully "Thank you Hoggle."

He gazed at her for a moment, a certain pinkness gracing his already ruddy cheeks. Then his eyes shuttered off, and he turned away. The door slammed shut.

Sarah sighed, and looked back at the mirror.

* * *

The pub was too loud, too crowded and too stuffy. The goblins covered every available piece of floor space, squabbling, talking, shouting and singing. Some were even passed out over the long bench-like tables, still clutching tankards like ardent lovers. One was even being rocked to a gentle doze on a candelabra swinging from the ceiling. A heavy, slightly sharp smell hung in the air, a tang of unwashed bodies, ale and even the urine that clogged the rushes of the floor. A vast fireplace burned voraciously at the back of the room, while the bar stood on a raised dais at the side. Pink cheeked goblin wenches hefted the big tankards and delivered them to the eager customers. Even though it was early morning, the windows were still shuttered, perhaps to keep up the illusion of night so that the goblins would tarry a little longer. 

Behind the bar, the tavern master, stone cold sober, watched over the proceedings with a sharp eye. The apron stretched over his belly was frayed and dirty, he wiped his hands on it every few minutes. Mainly his arms were crossed, and he looked candidly as a dwarf slipped through the doors uncertainly. He frowned; the tavern was never usually frequented by any sort other than goblins, who generally stayed out of the city anyway. He watched as the dwarf picked his way through the rambunctious crowd, apologising and ignoring where necessary. He looked up, and caught site of the tavern keeper, who stared back unashamedly. Hoggle elbowed his way up to the bar with renewed vigour, wincing as ale was spilled onto his coat. He finally reached the bar where the tavern keeper stood, and placed his hands on the counter breathlessly.

The tavern-keeper stepped forward, but didn't say anything. Hoggle pushed a goblin off his shoulder, which had leant there drunkenly, singing snatches of songs. "I need to speak with Megg." Hoggle demanded of the tavern keeper.

Still silent, the tavern keeper beckoned him to the side of the bar where he lifted up the counter, and Hoggle moved through to the other side of the bar. Taking his time, the tavern master waddled over to a doorway which had a dirty sheet half covering it. He ducked under it and Hoggle followed suit. The corridor was dark, but the deafening sound from the main room was somewhat muffled.

Picking up a tallow candle, the goblin waddled on, and on down the small damp corridor. The sound gradually faded to silence. The lamp bubbled and stank, but cast enough light to walk by. Finally, after turning more corners than Hoggle had expected could fit in the building, they reached a thick wooden door. Wordlessly, the tavern master held out a grubby paw. Hoggle sighed and dug out a couple of copper tokens, dropping them into the awaiting palm. The tavern master opened the door with a heavy duty iron key, and signalled for Hoggle to enter. The door shut a second after he was in the room.

The room was mainly dark, with a single candle flickering on a table. Hoggle swallowed, and moved forward tentatively.

An old goblin crone was sitting at the table; her leathery skin looked like it had wrinkles on wrinkles. Her fingers were curled into knotted talons, which restlessly moved, gathering knucklebones into a cup and scattering them in a constant repetitive movement. Her milky eyes were sightless, but flickered from side to side. Wispy yellowing hair was plastered to her skull, and spittle formed on her lips while she muttered.

Hoggle took another step, and the crone stopped dead. All her movements ceased, and her white eyes snapped up to stare in his general direction.

He cleared his throat. "Are you Megg?"

"That I am." Her voice was cracked and high, but audible all the same. "Am I she, brave coward."

She began to toss and gather the knucklebones once again in fluid movements.

"Why are you here?" she asked, her eyes again moving from side to side. Hoggle opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted.

"Ah, I see, I see. The King is right not to trust you, for you shelter his saviour and his downfall. She comes to seek…Her kin. But that is not the only reason she is here…" She stopped, and a frown creased her sagging skin further.

"I cannot read…" She said softly. "I cannot read…"

Her eyes flicked to Hoggle again. "I read what you want. You seek to protect her from them. To hide her. I do not know why I should do this."

She threw out the knucklebones once more; they dropped onto the table in a series of thuds. "Ah." She said softly.

Megg gathered the knucklebones slowly, feeling for them and dropping them in the pot with deliberation. "The girl will bring great upheaval in her wake. But I cannot change what has begun, but…I will help you, for the girl needs it. I take pity. She will be under my protection, small as it is."

The last knucklebone she held in her hand. Suddenly, she spat on it, and rubbed it between her hands, muttering quietly all the while. Hoggle looked on with an expression of mingled relief and disgust.

Finally, she appeared to finish. She beckoned him forward with a crooked finger. Hoggle unwillingly moved closer. She held out the knucklebone and he picked it out of her fingers delicately, pocketing it.

She slumped back in her seat, somehow managing to age even further. "There is much to be said, I could even tell you, but the time is not yet here. We will not meet again." She spoke hoarsely. She sat up, picked up a spare bone out of a pocket and continued her endless game.

The hollow thunks followed Hoggle as he left the room.

* * *

"Haha! I told you! I told you mine noble brother Ludo! The fair lady is here!" Hoggle sniffed, and dug at the earth with his feet while Sir Didymus continued to blabber on excitedly. 

"Sawah?" Ludo questioned, his warm brown eyes uncertain.

It had taken Ludo the longest time to accept Sarah wasn't going to call again, thought Hoggle sourly, Sir Didymus hadn't even accepted it in the first. The knight (of uncertain origin) had managed to keep up his cheery faith for all the years, with an unshakeable conviction that Sarah had not stopped believing.

Ludo and Sir Didymus had been companions-in-arms ever since the knight had admitted Ludo was his equal at the Battle of the Bog. They had no fixed abode, but rather wandered the Labyrinth. It had only been through one of Sir Didymus' rather infrequent letters that Hoggle had been able to glean a sketchy idea of their location. They were currently camped out in the meadows to the west of Hoggle's home.

Ludo was laid down in the long grass, gazing thoughtfully at the various dark storm clouds which scudded overhead towards the city through the blue sky. The strengthening wind occasionally stirred the grass and flowers in waves, their heads dancing in the breeze. Sir Didymus had his sleeves gallantly pinned back, and was wielding a wooden spoon valiantly over a cooking pot of porridge.

It was just typical, thought Hoggle almost fondly, that Didymus would turn something as mundane as breakfast into valour-filled quest. Ambrosias lay snoozing next to their packs, ostensibly a guard dog.

"Jareth's got 'er brother again." Said Hoggle loudly, finally interrupting Sir Didymus' long soliloquy.

"Egad! We must charge the castle! Batten down the doors, and rescue him! How dastardly, the fair lady had once already won him back, surely this is not right?" demanded Sir Didymus.

Hoggle shook his head "Somethin's not right. I'd better get back, you coming?" Hoggle stood up, brushing pollen off his trousers.

Sir Didymus prodded the rapidly congealing porridge with bravely-masked concern "We shall along presently to greet my lady, give her our best regards!" Ludo lumbered over to stare at the porridge, and made a derogatory noise.

"Prithee peace, Sir Ludo!" Sir Didymus swatted the beast away. "Farewell, brother Hoggle! Sir Ludo, if we but add a dash of milk I insist it will be fine!"

Hoggle waved as he stumped down the slight hill.

* * *

Jareth was seated on his throne, legs crossed and tapping his boot absently. Toby had been removed to a bedroom, where he lay still fitfully dreaming and forgetting. 

The room was empty; he was in no mood for the brainless frolics of his subjects. He highly suspected they'd decamped to some of the more disreputable drinking-holes around the city.

The Labyrinth was a dark presence in the corner of his mind, cold and furious at his insurrection. It had only been slightly mollified by his sending her back. Jareth sighed, and clenched his fists.

His plans lay in ruins, he had never bargained on himself getting in the way. But, he was far from beaten.

He thought of her dark eyes, watching him uncertainly, and then sweeping to a close. Her delicate eyelashes against the pallor of her cheeks. She looked so fragile, but, he thought grimly with a ghost of a smile, she was far from it. His heart clenched painfully in his chest, and he cursed himself. He stood up suddenly, moving over to the window. It was a beautiful morning, but Jareth could feel the storm building. Perhaps a by-product of the clash of the heart and soul of the kingdom.

Jareth stiffened, his eyes dark with conflict. He felt her enter the Labyrinth, and so did the Labyrinth. She was here.

* * *

Sorry for the rather large wait for this chapter, been busy recently (should be busy now, but whatever!). Thanks for reviews! 

Tell me what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

While the leaves whipped up around him in a dry rattle, Hoggle hunched his back and continued to walk with a grim expression. The forest had always had a dark mystique to it, with the ancient trees seeming to exude a sense of weary sentience. The fireys, of course, were happily unaware of any such feelings on the part of their home. The most that they noticed, though Hoggle grumpily, was how far they could chuck their various body parts.

However, there was no sign of anyone in the forest today. Hoggle tried to walk as swiftly as he could with his short legs.

Sarah only had so much time.

His gaze fixed on the faintly glimmering ground, he continued on his determined way.

"Yaaaah!" he yelled and stumbled back a few paces.

His vision had suddenly been overtaken with a pair of black boots. A terribly familiar pair of black boots.

Hoggle cursed silently, and his gaze flicked up to rest on an even more familiar set of pointed teeth. He gritted his own rather more blunt teeth.

"Hallo Hoggle." The Goblin King's tone was cheerful. He was dressed as flamboyantly as usual, a blue waistcoat adorned with a profusion of buttons over a comparatively sober white shirt. Jareth adjusted his midnight gloves with a relaxed air.

Hoggle scowled even more. "Yer majesty." He hoped vaguely that his dark thoughts _that he'd give the no good rat a good kick in the arse if he'd been able to get higher than his shins_ didn't show on his face.

The wind whistled violently through the trees. Jareth walked a few steps from Hoggle, his attention caught by some moss which watched him with a vague kind of unease. Hoggle shuddered. He recollected himself, and tried to look blank.

Jareth stroked the moss delicately, and it shivered.

He turned away, suddenly bored. There was a curious kind of heaviness to the air, as the storm began to build in earnest.

"You know something, Hoggle," Jareth said conversationally. "She's come back."

It was obvious to both of them Hoggle knew who Jareth was talking about. Hoggle tried to swallow but it seemed his mouth had become drier than the deserts of the east. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

"Really?" asked Hoggle, wincing at the slight nervously high pitch to his voice. His wiped his forehead with his sleeve, trying to find some vestiges of courage within him.

Jareth watched with a peculiarly sinister breed of a patient smile "Yes, really." He paused, and Hoggle had an odd sensation of wanting to wilt. "Now, Hoggle, do you happen to know where she is?" he asked gently, walking closer and kneeling down in front of the gardener.

Hoggle eyes darted around swiftly, never resting on anything for more than a second, and avoiding the King's gaze like the plague. He quivered, _I'm a coward! _He wailed inwardly. _Why does she insist on me being brave for her? I could just tell him, and go back to living the way I used to. She forgot about us. Why should I risk everything for her? _

The simple answer surfaced in his thoughts. _Because you promised yourself, long ago, to be brave._

_If you don't do it for her, and by gods you always would, do it for yourself._

"Uhm…Um…Er…No." After stuttering for a good few moments, Hoggle gave an abrupt finish. Hoggle squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced, expecting some sort of punishment. _Even the Bog would be too much to hope for._

Nothing happened, and Hoggle tentatively opened his eyes. Jareth was smiling at him, _like a fiend_, thought Hoggle shakily. Jareth stood up suddenly, tossing a crystal swiftly between his hands, his attention diverted. "Of course. If you do see her, be sure to tell me then." Said Jareth lightly. He walked away and leant against one of the thick trunks of the trees.

Hoggle gaped at him, Jareth raised an eyebrow. "Please, do go about your business." He said politely, waving an eloquent hand in the direction Hoggle presumably wanted to go in. Hoggle stood there, dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open.

Jareth grinned "You'll catch flies in there soon." In a swift twisting motion with his gloved fingers, he disappeared in a sparkle of magic.

Hoggle finally recollected himself and closed his mouth. He frowned. It was obvious Jareth was toying with him. He knew. Never mind the fact _a goblin_ could have guessed Hoggle was lying…But why was Jareth letting her stay? Hoggle dug his hands into his pockets tensely, turning the knucklebone between his fingers. He began to walk again, just a little faster.

* * *

Jareth paced to and fro across the corridor. A narrow shaft of weak light came through the small window; the candles in the sconces were lit, casting an even weaker rosy light. The light only seemed to create more wavering shadows. He strode over to the window, leaning a hand on the wall beside it. 

The sky was cloudy; on the horizon silent distant lightening flickered and forked. Barely any light filtered through.

Despite it, he still found the view stunning. His kingdom stretched out before him, filled with treacherous paths, trickery and riddles. Yet at the same time, it glowed with a strange wild beauty. A familiar feeling of weariness stole over him, and he leant his forehead against the side of the window frame. He felt tired.

She was out there somewhere. Despite his best intentions, she was back. She would have to fight her own battles now, perhaps even against him. He had tried to save her. It was her own fault she had returned. Jareth smiled ruefully.

She wouldn't be Sarah if she hadn't. He couldn't condemn the very qualities in her he admired.

He chuckled humourlessly; he couldn't afford to dwell on her like some lovesick fool. His plans would never work if he was so weak. But then again, she was always a wild card in any scheme.

He felt the cold presence of the Labyrinth behind him, in corporal form. It said nothing.

Jareth pushed himself away from the wall, and turned around.

"Where is the boy?" Jareth asked softly. The Labyrinth, its features roiling and changing, spoke. "Nowhere you will find him, we no longer trust you." It sounded like the grinding of stone, and the rumble of thunder.

Jareth narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. He jerked his head towards the window "You see what good that is doing to the kingdom." Far away, here and there were the tiny glows of fires. The storms were wreaking destruction.

The voice became low with menace "Be this on your head, it is your foolishness which brought us to this. You, our heart, changed your allegiance. It is only through necessity that we keep the boy."

Jareth closed his eyes. The Labyrinth had wanted Toby, the child that had escaped. Jareth had gone along with the plan for his own reasons, but things had begun to spiral out of control.

The Labyrinth stood, silent and implacable. "There was only ever one way for things to return to the way they were. Kill the girl. We will send the boy back. This is our final offer."

Suddenly, it was there no longer.

Jareth cursed and swung his fist against the wall; the blood welled up from his broken skin and dropped to the floor in subtle taps. He let it bleed.

He walked away from the window, flexing his wounded hand. He could already feel it healing. It was time to do some fighting of his own.

* * *

The snow was beginning to thin; the trees too were becoming sparser. Thom stopped, and loosened his pack with a grunt. It fell to the ground in a soft billow of snow. He still felt weak, he hadn't been in the presence of such magic for a long time, and it had exhausted him. The closer he got to the Labyrinth, the more it drained him. Resting his hands on his knees, he leant down and panted. 

He opened a flap on the pack and got out his flask. He drank, and the burning sensation revived him somewhat. The pause allowed his worries to crowd into his mind. He was worried about Sarah. He looked up, narrowing his eyes in the direction of the Labyrinth. She reminded him of another headstrong young woman, of a long ago memory of sunlit golden hair and red roses. He thought of her. He thought of their son.

He carried on walking.

* * *

Jareth paused at the doorway. The room of stairs. Somewhere within it lay the keystone. He hadn't been here since she had proudly stood on it before him, defying him. Narrowing his eyes, he dismissed all thoughts of anything but his mission. He stepped out. 

The keystone was the centre of the Labyrinth, although it may stalk the Underground in some semblance of human form – the keystone was where it resided. Apt really, that it had a heart of stone. He stepped down the first set of steps slowly, resting a hand on the slow beat of his own heart.

But he wasn't here for no reason. The keystone was where the Labyrinth resided, and therefore was where the memories of the Labyrinth were. He needed to find answers.

The Labyrinth was busy searching the Labyrinth for Sarah. However, Jareth wasn't worried, he had been reasonably informed that for once Hoggle had done something remotely intelligent and hidden her from detection. It wouldn't last long though.

He moved easily through the myriad staircase, searching with keen eyes for the stone. It would be disguised. Through doorways, down and up stairs he passed. Finally it caught his eye. The only stone that pulsed to the same beat of his heart. He moved towards it, slowing down. He watched it thoughtfully. It looked like a simple block of stone, but he knew it was the one. God knows how Sarah had been guided to the place where her stinging words would gain power. She had killer instincts.

He stopped in front of it, and frowning slightly, began to pull on the fingers of the glove on his left hand. It came off, and he held it in his right hand.

Bracing himself, he placed his bare hand on the stone.

Immediately he was pulled under in a sensation akin to being suddenly doused in hot water. It burned. Every nerve in his body was almost numb with pain. He gritted his teeth and bit back a scream at the fierce agony. The Labyrinth snapped to attention, rushing to block him from entering. He fought with every ounce of his will, fighting through the pain.

Suddenly he was where he wanted to be.

* * *

Thom gasped, and tried to walk a few steps forward. His legs felt like lead. Suddenly, the weight and pressure on him lifted. He stood up straight. The Labyrinth was distracted. Knowing he had little time, he began to run.

* * *

"_It is unnatural." The cold voice spoke with a quiet anger._

_Two men stood in the shadow of a grey stone doorway. They both were watching a young couple seated in the garden. They sat within a square of lawn, surrounded by the kitchen herbs. The wind stirred the plants, and their fragrant scents infused the air of courtyard._

_The woman had golden hair twined with roses tied back in a braid. She nursed a child with a smile. Her green dress spread out over the grass. A man was seated by her, gazing at them both. It was a rare sunny day, and the family were clearly making the most of it. It was a pretty scene. The men, however, were unappreciative._

"_A demon and his whore." The older man said disgustedly. His iron grey hair was cropped short, and he was dressed well. A knight. He leant heavily on a stick, the only concession to a battle wound received years ago. He had a calculating air about him, of a cruel patience._

_The other man was younger, and far less composed than his companion. "The Laird is foolish. He should have turned them out. Their bastard is to be heir." He spoke angrily. His eyes revealed his turbulent emotions as he stared at the couple. Hatred, jealously and thwarted desire. He watched as the young man placed a relaxed arm around the waist of his wife. He clenched his fists._

_The older man placed a restraining hand on the shoulder of his son. "Sadly, the other knights follow the order of the Laird. They accept Tam Lin and his son as their future leaders. They accept him as a mortal and a Christian." He murmured bitterly. _

_The younger man placed a hand on his scabbard "His succession may be secure, but iron will soon change the story." He spat._

_The older man dealt his son a swift blow across the face. "Do not be foolish Angus, cool your hot blood! Do you mean us to fall with them?" he hissed._

_Angus eyed his father mutinously, touching his cheek lightly, but said nothing. They stood in silence for a few moments. "I mean to have her, father." Angus said finally. "I would murder the babe in a church for her."_

_The older man gave his son a quick look of disgust. "You would still have her?"_

_Angus nodded once, slowly. _

_His father looked back at the family "They say she took him back from the Fair Folk." He said distantly "That must have taken courage."_

_Angus' shoulders were hunched "He bewitched her." He said in a voice tight with rage. _

"_What will we do?" he asked finally, looking up. His father still watched the couple. The dark haired man dandled the child on his lap, while the woman held the boy's tiny hand and delightedly spoke nonsense to him. The old man's brow lifted. "Pathetic." He said without emotion._

_They turned away from the scene into the dark of the castle's interior. The ante-room was small, and a wooden door granted entry to the more sumptuous rooms within. It was shut, the two men started and stopped. A woman stood there. _

_She was tall, and strikingly beautiful, unnaturally so. Her dress was a deep red, intricately patterned and woven of material too fine to have been made by mortal hands. A heavy fur lined cloak rested on her shoulders. A deep green girdle encircled her narrow waist. Her dark hair was unbound, and tumbled about her shoulders in luxuriant curls. Her face was delicate and pale, under dark eyebrows her green eyes glowed with an otherworldly light. She smiled delightedly._

_Angus stepped forward unbidden, his expression enraptured. She walked forwards in a rustle of cloth, close to him; she smiled from underneath her lashes. Her pink lips curved into a captivating smile. "Such passion." She whispered. Angus whispered "My lady…"_

_The older man was wary. "Who are you? How did you get in?" He demanded. His eyes slid to the heavy wooden door he had not heard open. _

_The woman looked at him, her dark eyes measuring him. A slim hand came to rest on Angus's shoulder. _

"_Sir Sholto the bastard." She said lightly. He flinched at her words. "You call __**her**__ whore when your mother spread her legs so easily." She laughed scornfully._

_On his walking stick, the old man's knuckles turned white, and his mouth tightened. "How dare you insult me so." He whispered coldly._

_Her attention returned back to Angus. "Do you want her?" she murmured. A bitter smile curved her lips. "Hm."_

_The young man's darkened gaze never moved from her face._

"_Who are you?" demanded the old man once again, he moved forward, as if to rescue his son._

_The woman ignored him, tracing the brow of Angus lightly. "He was the fairest of my knights. I am bound not to harm them. Their son, however…"_

_Her subtle eyes chilled the old man. "I cannot interfere. But I can tell you the words. Say the right words, and you shall have your wish…"_

Darkness closed in, and from nowhere battlements rushed to fill the void.

_The night was stormy. It was dangerous to be up on the battlements. The shrieking wind buffeted the four figures standing on it. Lightning cracked through sky, followed by the deafening rumble of thunder. It was bitterly cold, and rain lanced down in heavy droplets. _

"_Angus!" screamed Janet, clutching the wall with one hand and holding out the other in supplication. "Angus please!" She was weeping. "Please!" Her golden hair was plastered to her face and body._

_The young man held a squalling baby in a reckless grip, the light of desperation in his eyes. "Janet, this is for your own good!" he cried._

_His father stood behind Janet, the sword in his hand held against the throat of a grey-eyed young man. Tam breathed in short pants, his eyes on the sword. "Janet..." He whispered hoarsely._

_He took a breath, and in a swift movement punched the old knight in the stomach. The old man cried out breathlessly and fell back against the wall, scrabbling for a grip. Tam sprinted forward towards his wife and child._

_Angus stepped backward, swaying in the wind. On seeing Tam running towards him, he held up the crying child. "I wish the goblins would take you away, right now!" he yelled._

_The lightning flashed, and the child was gone. Tam skidded to a halt, his eyes wide in horror and denial. Angus watched Janet drop to her knees "Jareth…" she whispered desperately._

The shock catapulted him back to himself. He dropped to his knees in disbelief. The glove fell to the floor with a pathetic slap. The blood drained from his face.

The Labyrinth was there, waiting.

"The boy…" said Jareth breathlessly. Too many thoughts clustered in his mind. "This is no simple revenge. He is…He is my replacement…I was a wished away child too."

"Foolish child. We loved you. You always were our favourite. It is your choices which brought us here."

"I had…Parents…I was a mortal."

There was silence. "We did not do this. Your parents had a powerful foe; we were merely a tool of Her revenge. We are not her friend."

"She looked like…"

* * *

Is anybody still reading this? 

If you really don't get what is going on...Join the club! Haha no seriously might help to read the ballad of Tam Lin. If everybody is VERY confused I can post some clarification at the start of next chapter.


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